


Reality

by AshleyTrecartin



Series: Realities [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Demons, F/M, Ghosts, Hunting, Oral, Sex, hunter in training, things get weird here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-10 17:36:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 39,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4401107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshleyTrecartin/pseuds/AshleyTrecartin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU: Supernatural isn't just a television show, it's reality as Blake finds out the hard way. It's up to her to save Sam and Dean and her reality crashes around her. Now, the brothers are teaching her to be a hunter, but things between her and Dean are getting a little more involved than hunter training.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Not a TV Show

Reality  
Chapter One: Not a TV Show

Blake swung her hair around as she sang along with _Halestorm’s Amen_ as she sped down the country road. She’d just finished her night shift at a twenty-four hour truck stop. She was going home, throwing on some pajamas, putting her hair up, and turning on Netflix. She couldn’t think of a better way to fall asleep. “My life, my love, my sex, my drugs, my lust. My god, it ain’t no sin, can I get it, can I get an amen.” She laughed to herself and glanced out of the window, watching the cornfields pass by. She sighed a little to herself. She was always going to be stuck in this one horse town, working at the same diner, marrying the same idiots she went to high school with, having babies who’d suffer the same fate she did. No one ever left, no one did anything important. It was a sad way to live life. 

“Blake.”

Blake screamed and slammed on the breaks, nearly spinning out of control. A man wearing a trench coat appeared out of nowhere in the passenger’s seat beside her. She was panting with fear and slowly turned her head to look at him. “Where the hell did you come fr…” She squinted, looking hard at him. She was either high, drugged, or dreaming. She could swear the man sitting beside her was Misha Collins dressed up as Castiel from Supernatural. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you, but this is a matter of grave importance.”

“The feather pillow is right.” Blake screamed again, whipping her head around. Mark Sheppard in Crowley’s signature black suit had appeared in her backseat. 

“What the hell is going on?” she demanded. “How the hell did you two get in my car?”

“We appeared.” Mark smiled and sat back, looking her over. “I don’t know, I don’t think she’s got what it takes. She’s a bit…jumpy.”

“What it takes for what?” Blake gently eased her car to the side of the road and cut the engine. “Why are Misha Collins and Mark Sheppard in my car?”

“I am not Misha, and that is not Mark. Our names are Castiel and Crowley.” 

“Right, and I’m Princess Leia.” She rubbed her eyes and looked at them. She was too tired to deal with this. “Will someone please tell me what’s going on?”

“He’s right. We really are Castiel and Crowley. He’s an angle, a terrible one at that, and I’m the King of Hell.” Crowley leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “The people you know as us are actors, as are the two playing the Winchester boys.”

“That makes no sense. You look exactly like them.” 

“They’re shape shifters,” Castiel explained. “Dean and Sam allow them to live because they are keeping a cover. The television show Supernatural acts much like the books the prophet Chuck wrote about the boys. Everything is true.” Blake’s head was spinning and she could feel the headache coming on. They didn’t really expect her to believe this did they? She was being punked, that’s the only explanation. 

“We don’t have time for this.” Crowley snapped his fingers.

Blake grabbed her head and cried out when a sharp pain shot through her. Images of two sets of Sam and Dean popped into her head. She saw one set filming Supernatural, the other was in a warehouse, tied up to a couple of chairs. She saw the deal that had been made. They shifters were Jensen and Jared, there were even ones of Misha and Mark. They acted out the show, the Winchesters hunted. The show was exactly like Chuck’s books. A filmed biography of the boy’s lives. Everything that happened in the show, happened in real life, to the real Sam and Dean Winchester. “What the hell did you do to me?”

“I showed you that we’re not lying.” Crowley smirked and looked at her. “Now, will you listen to us?”

Castiel gave Crowley a look before turning back to Blake. “We need your help.” 

“With what?”

“The real Sam and Dean are in trouble. They’ve been captured by a werewolf pack and we can’t get to them. The building has been warded against angels and demons.” 

“What do you expect me to do?”

“Ah, now, that’s where I come in.” Crowley snapped his fingers and a tablet appeared in his hand with the home page of her fanfiction account on the screen. Blake’s eyes widened. “I’ve been doing some homework. You’re a very talented writer.” He smirked and opened to the latest Supernatural fanfiction she’d been working on. “I especially like how you capture me.”

“How did you…?”

“King of Hell.” He winked and put the tablet away. “The point is, after I found this little ditty and read it, I was intrigued. So, I started my own research. You’re quite a good shot if the hunting trophies in your apartment are anything to go by.” 

Blake stared out of the window trying to absorb what was really happening. “The King of Hell has been spying on me. Supernatural is real…this is just…I’ve got to be dreaming.” She shook her head and looked between Castiel and Crowley. “That doesn’t explain what you want me to do.”

“We want you to save Sam and Dean Winchester,” Castiel said. 

Blake shook her head and got out of her car. She paced back and forth on the road, running her hands through her hair. There was no way, no freaking way this was real. “You two are out of your minds. I’m a hunter, a normal hunter. I hunt deer, not werewolves.”

“We know where the boys are, all we need you to do is kill the mutts keeping our boys locked up,” Crowley said appearing beside of her. It was getting harder not to believe this was happening. 

“How? Silver bullets aren’t exactly easy to come by.” Crowley rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers. A rifle appeared draped over her shoulder and a case of silver bullets landed in her hand. “You want me to snipe a pack of werewolves?”

“That’s exactly what we want you to do.” Crowley smirked and leaned against her car as Castiel climbed out. “So, what do you say? Give up this life of cornfield, cattle, and monotony and take up a life of hunting?” 

Blake rubbed her eyes. If she did this she could never go back, never go home, and never have a normal life. She knew what happened to people when they got into this life. She’d have to cut ties with everyone she knew. That’s what hunters had to do to keep them alive. “Where are they?”

“Lovely.” Crowley snapped his fingers and the world spun around her for a second before they stopped again. They were standing on the roof of a building. “That one.” Crowley pointed to the building next door. 

Blake took the gun off her shoulders and crouched down, lying flat on her belly. She pulled the gun tight to her shoulder and peered through the scope. Sure enough, Sam and Dean were inside, bound to chairs, surrounded by six werewolves. She took the box of bullets Crowley had given her and opened it, loading six rounds into the gun before coking it, loading the first bullet into the chamber. “Think you can handle this?”

“Shut up.” She took a breath and gently eased the safety off the gun and slipped her finger around the trigger. She looked back through the scope again. Keeping her breathing even she moved the gun until the first werewolf crossed her crosshairs. No going back now. Blake squeezed the trigger and watched through the scope as the werewolf dropped to the ground. The others inside the building started looking around. She needed to take them out before Sam and Dean got hurt. She’d been hunting almost her whole life, but this was different. She trained the scope on another werewolf and caught it mid-jump, taking it down, quickly followed by two more. 

The last two remaining werewolves took what they thought was shelter behind Sam and Dean. She had a foot, maybe, of space to shoot. She took another deep breath and licked her lips. “Don’t miss, love.”

“Crowley, shut up.” Blake moved the crosshairs up until the head of the werewolf behind Sam was lined up. She took one slower, deep breath before squeezing the trigger. The werewolf fell back, leaving just one. It was looking everywhere, frantic. It didn’t know where the bullets were coming from. She could see it screaming, fangs bared. She saw it’s clawed hand reach up, reading to slice across Dean’s throat. Blake took the shot and watched as it fell. She picked her head up and looked at Castiel and Crowley. “They’re all dead.”

She got up and Crowley snapped his fingers, transporting them to the door of the building. Blake slung her gun over her shoulder and walked inside, leaving the angle and demon outside. She bit her lip as she approached the Winchester boys. “You’re the one who killed the werewolves?” Sam asked. 

“Uh, yeah.” She walked behind his chair and started untying the ropes. 

“There’s a knife on the table,” Sam supplied.

“Right.” She grabbed the knife and cut him free then turned and let Dean go. “Are you guys alright?” she asked. She was surprised she wasn’t having a Becky moment. But given the fact that Crowley and Castiel had already pretty much fucked her up mentally, she figured she was over the star struck stage. “I’m Blake.”

“Sam and Dean.”

“Yeah,” she nodded her head, “I know who you are.” She licked her lips and looked between them. “I uhm…love the show?”

Dean rolled his eyes and rubbed his face. “You’re a fan?”

“It’s…complicated.”

“How did you know we were here?” Sam asked. 

“Okay, look, I thought all of this stuff was fake, I mean I watch you, well not you, but you, on a TV show. I was driving home from work when your angel and the King of Hell appeared in my car and told me that this was all real, you two are real and the actors are just shifters, and that you needed help because you’d been kidnapped by werewolves and dumb and dumber out there couldn’t get into the building.” She was panting, everything just came flooding out of her. 

Dean put a hand on her shoulder. “Okay, okay, calm down.” He sighed and looked at Sam. “Why don’t you come with us? We can take you back home.”

Blake shook her head. “I’m not going home. Not after this.” She looked between Sam and Dean. “You guys think this life is so terrible if the show is anything to go by, and I know this isn’t a show, I get this is real life. I just put down six werewolves.” She sighed and ran a hand through her hair as Sam and Dean crossed their arms. “But you don’t know what it’s like growing up in a town with seventeen hundred people, knowing everyone and everyone knows everything. Waking up and going to the same shitty truck stop diner every night and going home to an empty apartment every morning.” She looked up at Dean. “I want more from my life than cornfields and small town gossip.”

Dean ran a hand over his face and rubbed his eyes. “Hell, fine, let’s just go.” He turned and walked towards the door. “I’m gonna kick Cas and Crowley’s ass.” 

Sam looked at Blake as they followed Dean out. “Where’d you learn to shoot like that?” he asked. “You didn’t miss a shot.”

She smiled a little. “I’m a hunter, a normal hunter…I hunt deer.” She looked up at him. “That’s why Crowley picked me.”

“Because you hunt deer?”

“Among other reasons.” She looked over at Dean who was talking to Castiel and Crowley when they walked out of the building. 

“What did you want us to do, Dean?” Cas asked. “There was no way for us to get to you, we did what we had to do.”

“Yeah, you two idiots picked an innocent girl off the street and dumped her into this mess and guess what? Now she wants to stay.”

“I don’t see what the problem is.” Crowley slipped his hands in his pockets and looked at Dean. “That girl?” he said nodding at Blake. “Just saved your life, I’d show a little gratitude.”

“Gratitude isn’t my problem. It’s the fact that she wants to be a hunter now.”

“Isn’t taking her with you the better alternative?” Castiel asked. 

“Angel boy has a point. Either she’s going to go off hunting alone, and you know how well that works out for a novice, or,” Crowley continued, “she’s going to go back to her normal, boring life that doesn’t matter to her or anyone else, and one day a demon or a vampire, or some other monster she can’t defend herself against is going to come looking for some payback.” Blake smiled a little. It was kind of nice having the King of Hell stick up for you. “Besides, she’s already got the basics down, the instinct. She just needs a little…fine tuning.”

“Son of a bitch.” Dean pulled his keys out of his pocket. “Fine, whatever.” He walked off. Blake followed him with her eyes and watched as he opened the driver’s door to a black 1967 Chevy Impala. 

“Yeah, should have seen that one coming.” She followed Sam over to the car and climbed into the back seat. She wasn’t expecting Castiel and Crowley to climb in but when they did she found herself wedged between the two; Castiel, the angle, on her right, and Crowley, the King of Hell on her left. She glanced between them and shook her head. “This has all of the makings of a bad joke.”

“I don’t understand,” Cas said looking at Dean for context. 

“Don’t worry about it Cas.” Dean started the car and drove off. “So, where are you from?” he asked. 

“Berrien Springs, a little village in Michigan.” She looked out of the front window as Dean drove. “Where are we now?” she asked. 

“Spearfish, South Dakota.” Sam turned in the front seat and looked at her. “You’ve got to have better questions than that.”

“Well…yeah, but I don’t want to piss Blue Steel off with anything stupid.” She crossed her arms and pinned Dean with a look. 

“Yeah, you’re hilarious. Just ask.”

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, pulling at the base of her neck. “Well…okay, so I get the show acts like Chuck’s books. What really happens in the show, really happens to you guys. But…how does it work? When the show ended last, Dean had just killed Death and the darkness was released.”

“They have a prophet working for the writers,” Sam explained. “So he knows everything that happens to us. From time to time he’ll call and ask some questions, hoping to get the dialogue or a specific detail right. Anyways, the show is about four years behind where we really are and our years are their seasons.”

Blake nodded her head, slowly understanding. “So, four years ago, you killed Death?”

“Pretty much.” Dean pulled onto the interstate and looked at her through the rearview mirror. “What else you got?”

“Okay, well, if you guys really stopped the apocalypse, how come no one remembers all of the earthquakes and the storms, or the meteor shower when the angels fell? I mean, you would think someone, somewhere would have figure this out by now.”

“That’s the angle’s doing,” Castiel answered. “We’re able to change the thoughts, the names, everything so that Dean and Sam remain just a television show.”

Blake nodded her head and rubbed her temples. “I’m sorry, does someone have some alcohol?”

Crowley chuckled and pulled a flash out his jacket and handed it to her. “Here, love, the good stuff.”

“Thanks.” She took it from him and unscrewed the cap, quickly drinking down the contents. She sighed and handed it back. 

Dean glanced back at her. “I’ve got to ask. Why hunting? There’s got to be something better you could do with your life.”

She sighed and looked at him. “It’s…hard to explain. Let’s just say that dying protecting people from monsters sounds like a better life than what I had.”

“You won’t be able to see your family again. No friends, no nothing.”

“I know, Dean. I knew what this would mean giving up.” She crossed her arms over her chest and looked at him through the mirror. His intense green eyes were watching her closely. “I don’t have a family, not anymore, and as for friends…well, don’t have many of those either.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-three.”

“You’ll never have a husband or a boyfriend, you’ll never have kids.”

“I can’t have kids. I’m defective.” The car grew silent, only the Impala’s engine filling the space. “Look, it doesn’t matter. I want this.”

Dean sighed and nodded. “Alright, Sammy and I will teach you everything we know.”


	2. Research

Reality  
Chapter 2: Research

Dean glanced into the backseat at the girl passed out. Crowley and Castiel had left hours ago, needing to get their own things done. Cas has said he’d get the girl’s car and her belongings to the bunker which was fine with Dean. It meant they didn’t have to take a side trip to Michigan. They were almost back to the bunker. “How’re we doing, Sammy?” he asked. He’d told Sam to do some research the second she’d passed out. 

Sam sighed and sat back, looking at his phone. “As far as I can tell she’s alone. He father died in Afghanistan when she was twelve, her mother died of a suicide a year later. She went into the system because she didn’t have any other living relatives, both sets of her grandparents died when she was little and both of her parents were only children.” He sighed and scrolled through the information on his phone that he’d managed to find on her so far. “She wasn’t lying about not being able to have kids. I’ve got her medical files. Apparently she had ovarian cancer when she was seventeen and they removed them, completely.” He shook his head. “She emancipated herself at sixteen, got a shitty apartment and a job at the diner. She’s been there ever since, she graduated high school at the top of her class and it looks like she tested high enough to get into a decent university.”

“So why didn’t she go?” Dean glanced back at her and frowned. She was a mystery, that was for sure. 

“She probably couldn’t afford it. I got a full ride and it was still hard to make ends meet.” Sam looked into her financials. “She doesn’t have much in the bank, so unless she’d hiding it all in her mattress, she was living with very limited means.” He put his phone away and looked over his shoulder at Blake. “From what I can tell she basically already lived like a hunter.”

“That doesn’t mean she needs to become one.” Dean still wasn’t happy with the whole situation, but they were right. If she was hell bent on doing this and he and Sam didn’t train her she’d get herself killed. He wasn’t going to have that on his hand. He pulled into the bunker’s garage and killed the engine, leaning his head back against the seat. 

“Looks like Cas got her car here.” Sam nodded at a Dodge Avenger sitting in one of the empty parking spot. “Wonder where he put all of her stuff.” Sam climbed out and opened the backseat door. “Blake,” he whispered shaking her. “Hey, Blake, wake up.”

She groaned and sat up slowly, pushing her hair out of her face. “What?”

“We’re here.” He stood up and moved so she could climb out of the car.

Blake looked around and knew exactly where she was. The bunker’s garage, complete with Dorothy’s motorcycle. “This isn’t a dream.” She rubbed her eyes and looked around. “Well, no turning back now.” She looked up at Sam and Dean. 

“Past the point of no return.” Dean put an arm around her shoulders and led her into the bunker. He wasn’t sure if she really wanted to be a hunter, or if she’d romanticized the idea from that stupid show. He knew what kind of crazy fanatics were out there. He and Sam had run into a few that made Becky look normal, and she’d gotten a potion from a demon so Sam would marry her. One thing had to be said for Blake, she was a hell of a shot. She’d managed to take out the werewolves, so at least that was something. He was planning on testing her abilities with a gun first thing. He wanted to see what she could really do. 

They led her inside and found all of five boxes sitting on the tables in the library. “Looks like Cas got my stuff.” She walked over and opened one of them, looing inside. 

“Where’s the rest of it?” Dean asked. 

Blake shrugged. “This is probably all of it. I don’t have much.” She lifted a leather jacket and looked under it. “So, one of you want to show me to my room?” she asked. 

Dean nodded at Sam. They each grabbed two boxes and led her down the hall to the bedrooms. Dean stopped in front of a door so she could open it. He walked inside with Sam and put the boxes on the bed. “I’m on the right, Sam’s on the left,” he told her. 

She nodded and looked around. “Nice place.”

“It’s small, but it’ll do.”

“Are you kidding me? This is just as big as practically my entire apartment.” She opened another box and looked inside. “This will more than do.” 

Dean watched her pull clothes out of the box and carry them over to the dresser, putting them away. Sam left to get the other box. He sighed and walked over to the bed, sitting down and opening another box. “So, you don’t have family or friends, you live in a shit hole apartment, work at a shitty diner, and have five boxes worth of stuff to your name. You sure you’re not a hunter already?” he asked. 

She laughed and came back for more clothes, carrying them over and putting them away. “I’m sure. I just don’t need a lot I guess.” She glanced over at him, smirking a little. “I know you and Sam probably ran me while I was passed out. You know I don’t have a whole lot to my name.”

“Makes uprooting and disappearing that much easier.”

“Trust me, no one back there is going to miss me.” After a third trip she’d emptied the first box. She moved to the one Dean had opened while he broke down the empty one. Sam came back with the last box and sighed. 

“I was going to make some food, you two hungry?” he asked. 

“I could eat.” Blake looked over with a smile. “Thanks.” Sam nodded and walked out, leaving her alone with Dean again. “So, can I ask you a question?”

“I expect you to ask me lots of questions.” He smirked a little when she threw a pair of socks at him. He tossed them back and she put them in the dresser. “Shoot.”

“Why was Cas with Crowley?”

Dean nodded when she came over and started emptying the next box. “He’s one of the good guys for the moment.”

Blake shook her head and started pulling hunting supplies out of the box. “I’m not going to ask.” She set the supplies on the dresser. 

“You know how to use a bow?” Dean asked, pulling out a bundle of arrows. 

“Compound and crossbow.” She smiled and cracked her neck. “I own one of each, a couple of shotguns, a rifle, and one pistol.” She took the arrows from Dean and set them in the closet along with the gun cases that had been with the boxes and her bows. “I’m a good hunter, just not a supernatural one.”

Dean watched her. “It’s not that hard to transfer the skills. Only, now when you hunt, the things you’re hunting are going to want to kill you.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” She sighed and worked her way through the boxes. Dean watched her, noticing that she really didn’t have anything personal, no pictures, no little figurines or nick knacks. Nothing that showed off her personality. It was practical things, clothes, a couple pairs of shoes, toiletries, a few books, her hunting equipment, and that was about it.

“You weren’t kidding about not having much.” He broke down the last box when Sam came in with three plates filled with burgers and steak fries and three beers. 

Blake shrugged and sat between Dean and Sam on the bed, taking a plate from Sam and putting her beer between her legs. “I always told myself that one day I was going to pack up and leave. Just hit the road and go. I guess I was preparing for that.” She took a bite of the burger and moaned around it. “Oh, god Sam, this is amazing.”

Sam chuckled. “Thanks, but you should try Dean’s. If you think mine’s good, his is going to blow your mind.”

“Can’t wait.” She smiled and wiped her mouth on a napkin Sam handed her. “So, where do we start?”

Dean and Sam exchanged looks. “Well,” Dean started, “first things first. It’s quiz time.” He smirked at her groan and roll of the eyes. “How do you kill a vampire?”

“Beheading.”

“Ghost?”

“Salt and burn the bones.”

“If there aren’t any remains?” Sam asked. 

“Find the object they’re attached to and destroy it, or, if they were road hauled and scared to death, you scare them.” She smirked a little and looked at Dean. “I particularly enjoyed that episode.”

“Watch it, princess.” He popped a fry into his mouth and narrowed his eyes. “Okay, you know how to kill werewolves, obviously, how about a rugaru?”

“Burn it.”

“Rakshasa?”

“Brass knife.”

“Vetala?”

“Stab it in the heart with a silver knife and twist.”

“Wraith?” 

“Silver to the heart.”

“Wendigo?”

“Burn it.”

“Big foot?”

“Nice try.” Blake smirked and ate a fry. “Big foot doesn’t exist.” 

Sam smirked and looked at Dean. “She knows her stuff.” He eyed her. “What about a rawhead?”

“Electrocution.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m a devout follower of the show boys.”

“Recite the exorcism,” Dean ordered. 

“Ah, that’s uh…yeah I don’t know it.” She sighed a little. “It’s the one thing I always had problems with. Little bits of Latin I’m okay with.”

“Like what?” Sam asked. 

Blake blushed a little, but sighed and nodded her head. “In Nomeni Patri Et Filli Spiritus Sancti.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I only know that because I got obsessed with The Boondock Saints and memorized the prayer.”

Dean smirked. “Good movie.” He sighed and set his plate aside. “Alright, Sammy will get you to memorize the exorcism, he’s better at it.” He got up with a sigh. “Tomorrow we’ll go down to the gun range, I want to see what you can really do. We’ll work on basics until I say you’re ready to go on a hunt, understand?”

Blake nodded her head. “So if something comes up I’ll be in charge of research while you go out?”

He nodded. “That’s exactly what’s going to happen.” He stretched and grabbed his plate and hers. “Get some sleep, we’ve got an early start tomorrow.” 

“Okay. Night.” She waited until the boys were gone before she rolled onto her side, stretching out on the bed. She stared at the wall, thinking about what she’d gotten herself into. Monsters were real, the Winchesters were real, and now she was going to train to become a hunter. She rubbed her eyes. Part of her still thought this was a dream. It couldn’t be real, but here she was, in Lebanon, Kansas, in the bunker, with Sam and Dean sleeping on the other side of the walls. She sighed and pulled the blankets up over her, curling into a tighter ball. Tomorrow started the first day of her new life.


	3. Training Day

Reality  
Chapter 3: Training Day

Blake cracked her neck and stretched her arms above her head when she walked into the library. Dean had woken her up fifteen minutes earlier and told her to get dressed and meet him there with her pistol. She ran her fingers through her hair, pushing it back before she quickly braided it. She pulled her gun from the small of her back where she’d stashed it and set it on the table to wait for Dean and Sam. She looked around the room, the long oak tables with the library lamps. The walls and shelves of books. She walked over and scanned the titles. 

“Pretty cool, huh?”

She turned and looked at Dean over her shoulder. “Surreal would be a better word.” She walked over and sat across the table from Dean. “So, what’s first?” she asked. 

He pulled his own gun out and set it on the table. “We’re going down to the gun range, but first Sammy’s got something special planned.” He smirked and looked over at Sam who walked in with another man covered head to toe in tattoos. 

“Blake, this is Rex, he’s a hunter and a great tattoo artist,” Sam said, sitting beside her. “If you’re going to do this, you’re getting inked up.”

She smirked a little and unbuttoned the first few buttons of her shirt, giving the three men a glimpse of the black lacy bra she was wearing. She caught Dean looking and nodding in approval. “Won’t be my first,” she said leaning back in the chair. “Go for it, Rex.”

He smirked and set up his tattooing equipment. “I like this one.” He sat down next to her and pulled out the stencil he’d already made of the anti-possession tattoo. “You’re going to have to take the shirt off,” he told her when he leaned in to put the stencil on and didn’t have enough room to work around the fabric. Blake unbuttoned the rest of it and pulled it off, lying it on the table. 

“Stand up,” Dean ordered. Blake looked at him, but did as he said and stood up. He took her hand and pulled her away from the chair and circled her. She rolled her eyes, waiting while he circled her, looking at her multitude of tattoos. She had quarter sleeves made up of roses, skulls, lace, and beads. On the back of her neck there was a small set of wings, one angle, one devil. Down her spine she had a double hanging dream catcher done in a multitude of colors. In the small of her back she had a trio of white roses splattered in blood. On the front of her hips she had matching tree of life tattoos. Dean also noticed the belly button ring dangling in her navel. Blake watched his eyes, watched his pupils blow out as his eyes darkened slightly. She bit her lip when his eyes trailed back up and looked at her. He put his hands on her hips, his thumbs brushing against her tattoos. 

Sam cleared his throat, reminding them that they weren’t alone in the room. Dean dropped his arms and pulled away as a hot blush spread across her face. “Right, okay, sit down, let’s get this done.” He stepped back and let her sit back down. 

“Nice ink,” Rex commented leaning forward and placing the stencil over the top of her left breast. 

“Thanks.” Blake moved her braid off her shoulder to the other and glanced over at Dean while Rex plugged in his needle and dipped it in the black ink. He was watching her with hooded eyes. It wasn’t just her, they’d had a moment there. She’d be lying if she said she wouldn’t mind getting into bed with Dean. Hell, he wouldn’t mind getting into bed with either of the Winchesters, but there was just something about Dean. She’s always been more attracted to him than Sam. She looked away when she heard the sound of the tattooing needle. She watched Rex lean over her body and put the needle to her skin. 

Tattoos never hurt, not really. It wasn’t a relaxing experience by any means, but it never hurt like everyone told her it would. She relaxed back into the chair and watched Rex drag the needle across her skin, the black ink permanently staining her skin. “You know,” she said, looking over at Sam and Dean. “If the show does anything helpful, which I’m sure you two don’t think it does, it protects people against possession.”

“How do you figure?” Sam asked. 

She laughed a little when Rex pulled the needle away to get more ink. “Seriously? You two should do some research on your fans. Hundreds of them went out and got this tattoo because they’re fans.” She looked back down at the tattoo. “Unless there’s some kind of spell or something you need to say, I’d say they’re protected, and that’s something.” She smiled and looked back up at them. “That should make you feel a little better.”

Dean smirked a little. “But you never got one?” he asked. 

“I never saw the point.” She let her head fall back on her shoulders. “I mean, it was just a show until yesterday.” 

“Welcome to reality,” Rex said, dipping his needle again. “You doing okay?” he asked. 

“Perfect.” She smiled and watched him trace the star in the center of the tattoo. It didn’t take him long to finish up. He put the ointment over the finished tattoo and covered it with a folded paper towels, taping them down. “Thanks, Rex.”

“Anytime. Next time you want a tattoo, give me a call.” He passed her his card and winked. 

Sam walked him out and Blake picked her shirt up off the table and slipped her arms back into it. She started buttoning it back up when Dean walked around the table, his gun in his hand. “Ready for the gun range?” he asked. 

“Thought you’d never ask.” She smiled and picked up her gun and followed Dean through the bunker. “I might need a map of this place,” she muttered. It would be so easy to get lost. 

He laughed and opened the door to the gun range. “It takes time but you’ll get the hang of it.” They walked over to the stations and he put a box of ammunition in front of her. Blake slid the clip out of her gun and quickly loaded it. She slipped the clip back in and cocked the gun, slipping a bullet into the chamber. Dean stood behind her, crossing his arms. “Let’s see what you’ve got.” She aimed at the target standing at the end of the range and kept both eyes open, holding her arm steady. She squeezed the trigger, working with the recoil. She fired three quick shots and flipped the safety on, setting the gun down on the table. Dean moved beside her and smirked. “Not bad.” He nodded his head and looked at her. “Just a few pointers.”

“Okay.” 

He moved behind her and she picked up her gun. Dean wrapped his arms around her, moving her arms into a better position, he pressed tightly against her back and Blake had to fight off the urge to press back against him. This was so not the time. She bit her lip and tried to remember the position he was putting her in, committing it to her muscle memory so it would be natural. “Okay, try this, aim right for the heart,” he whispered. Blake nodded and waited until his arms dropped before firing. The variation between her shots were smaller. Instead of three small holes, there was one large one where the bullets had ripped through the target. “Better.”

She smiled and put the safety back on and turned around, looking up at him. “That actually felt better too.”

“I’ve been at this a long time.” He picked up the box of ammunition. “I think you’re good here. Let’s get started on something else.”

“Okay.” Blake followed him back out of the gun range. “What’s next?” she asked. 

“Latin.” He smirked and walked into the library. Sam was sitting there with a few books in front of him. “She’s all yours Sammy.” Blake groaned but walked over and sat beside Sam so he could start teaching her the Latin used for the exorcism. 

Sam watched Dean leave the room and pushed the book towards Blake. “Let’s see what you’ve got.” He sat back and crossed his arms. 

Blake sighed and looked at the book and the complicated string of Latin words. There was a reason Latin was a dead language. She took a breath and slowly started going through the exorcism. “Exorci…exorcizamus te, omnius immundus spiritus, omnis satanica….potestas, omnis incrursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis cong-congregatio, et secta diabolica. Ergo, draco maledicte. Eccle-ecclesiam tuam secure…tibi…facias libertate servire, te…rogamus, audi nos.” She winced as her own butchered version of the language. 

“Well,” Sam scooted a little closer, “you need work, but that wasn’t terrible. You’re putting too much emphasis on the accent first of all.”

“Yeah, I tend to do that…” She played with the end of her braid and watched Sam as he trailed his fingers over the words. 

“Okay, first, exorcizamus, that was the first one you had problems with. Try pronouncing it, just by itself, syllable by syllable.”

Blake nodded and silently recited the word over and over in her head. Sam was right, syllable by syllable helped. She smiled when she got it. “Exorcizamus!”

Sam chuckled. “That’s it. Half the word is what we’re doing, so that helps.” He pulled out a piece of paper he’d written the exorcism on. “Take this, read it every chance you get, recite it every chance you get. I’m going to quiz you every morning until you can say it from memory.” Blake nodded and took the paper, folding it up and putting it in her pocket. “And don’t get discouraged, Dean and I didn’t always have it memorized.”

“And you used to use a longer one.”

“Very true.” He sat back and closed the book. “Before long you’ll be just as good as we are.” 

She smiled a little and looked around. “I don’t know, you both have a lifetime on me.” 

“It’s not that hard, just dangerous.” 

“So, what’s next on the hunter training schedule?” 

“Shopping trip.” Blake looked up at Dean. He was leaning in the doorway watching them. “If you’re going to do this, we need to get you a suit, and you’ll have to get a set of pictures we can use for your fake I.D.s.” He pushed off the wall and nodded his head. She got up and followed him back to the garage and climbed into the front of the Impala. “How’s the rest of your wardrobe?” he asked, backing out of the garage. 

Blake shrugged. “Compared to what you guys wear, not a whole lot of plaid, but the clothes are durable.” She crossed one of her legs over the other and looked out of the window as Dean drove. “Plaid isn’t really my pattern.”

“Good thing it’s not a requirement.” He glanced at her and couldn’t help but think that she’d look damn good in a plaid button down tied in a knot at her waist with a pair of itty bitty cutoffs and a pair of boots. He shook his head and concentrated on the road. Now was so not the time. 

“So, everything in the show is real…you’ve really been to Hell and Purgatory and Heaven?” she asked. 

Dean sighed and nodded. “Yeah, and you’re not really a hunter unless you die at least once.”

“Looking forward to it.” She rubbed her face. “I just won’t be coming back if I die.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Dean, you and Sam are the dynamic duo, it’s not like you’re just going to let some girl who’s not blood move in permanently and hunt with you guys. I figure once I know what I’m doing and you two are sick of me I’d move out, hit the road.”

Dean sighed and ran a hand over his face. He hadn’t thought about that. He didn’t say anything to Blake, but they had a while before they crossed that bridge. Hopefully by then she’d change her mind. He wouldn’t mind hunting with her. She seemed damn capable and she wasn’t exactly bad to look at. Instead of saying anything he might regret one day, he turned up the volume on the radio. AC/DC’s _TNT_ was playing. He looked over when he heard Blake singing. “AC/DC? Really?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Before my mom died I was raised on eighty’s music. I knew all of the words to _Welcome to the Jungle_ before I was six.” She smiled a little and looked at him. “I didn’t start listening to my generation’s music until after she died.”

“Sounds like she was a smart woman.” He smirked and sat back in the seat, relaxing. Blake continued to sing and Dean couldn’t help it. Sam hated it when he sang along, but if Blake was going to sing, so was he. She smiled when he started singing along with her. She started to rock a little with the music and tapped her fingers against the door. 

By the time they pulled up to the mall the volume in the Impala was up as far as it would go and Blake’s braid was messy from all of the head banging they’d been doing. Dean parked the car and turned the volume down before killing the engine. “I can’t remember the last time I had fun like that,” he said looking at her. 

She smiled and patted his shoulder before climbing out of the car. “One day I’ll introduce you to my music.” She smiled and walked inside, Dean following her. “So, we’re looking for a suit right?” she asked. 

“Suite, shoes, whatever else a female FBI agent would wear.” Blake nodded her head and walked into one of the stores and started looking around. Dean took a seat in front of the dressing rooms but kept an eye on her while she browsed.

Blake sighed as she looked at a pair of pants. She figured it would probably be a good idea to get one skirt and one pair of trousers. The boys portrayed more than FBI agents, so a skirt was practical. She loaded her arms up with what she needed and walked over to the dressing rooms. “This might take a while,” she told Dean.

“Don’t worry about it.” He nodded towards an empty room directly in front of him. 

Blake nodded and headed inside, hanging up the clothes on the hook provided and closed and locked the door. “You want to get something to eat after this?” she asked as she pulled her shirt over her head and let it fall to the ground. “I’m kind of starving.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” he called from outside. “What are you in the mood for?”

Blake smiled and pushed her jeans down her legs before taking the skirt off the hanger and sliding it up her legs. “Honestly? A greasy bar burger and some beer.” She could of sworn she heard Dean moan at the sound of that. “Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect.”

She smiled and grabbed the white oxford shirt and pulled it on, buttoning it up and pulled the blazer on over it. She slipped her feet into a pair of conservative heels and opened the door, walking out and doing a little spin for Dean. “What do you think?” she asked. 

What did he think? He was thinking about bending her over against the wall and pushing that tight pencil skirt up her waist and taking her right there in the middle of the store. He cleared his throat and tried to get that mental image out of his head. “Looks good,” he said, voice rough. “You sure a skirt is good idea though?” he asked. 

“I’ve got a pair of trousers too, I just figured that a skirt would be practical sometimes.” She ran her hands down her hips and looked at herself in the mirror, turning and twisting. “Doesn’t look that bad.”

She could say that again. He watched her go back inside and change again. She must have modeled a few different outfits for him and every one of them put dirty images in his head. By the time they were ready to leave Dean was doing everything he could to fight off a hard on and she had two bags worth of clothes, shoes, and accessories. “Before we leave we need to find a photo booth.” He looked around the mall for one. 

“Over there.” She pointed to one in the corner beside the food court. 

“Perfect.” Dean led her over and pulled out the change, feeding it into the machine while she pulled out a blazer and pulled it on and unbraided her hair, fluffing it out. “Pretend it’s a series of driver license pictures,” he told her, taking her bags as she slid inside. He leaned against the side of the machine while she took her pictures and looked around. Something had been prickling his skin ever since they’d walked inside. He hadn’t been able to put his finger on what it was exactly.

“Done.” She came out and pulled the blazer off, tucking it back inside the bag and running hand through her hair. She rested against the machine and waited while it printed out the pictures. She pulled them out and handed them to Dean for inspection. 

“These will do.” He carefully folded them and put them in his wallet. “Let’s go eat.” She smiled and nodded, picking up her bags and following him out of the building. He drove to the first bar he saw and pulled into a parking spot along the road. They walked inside and sat at the bar. “So, we mine as well do a little training while we’re here,” he said glancing over at the pool table. “How good are you?” he asked. 

She shook her head. “I’m terrible.” 

Dean nodded and smiled at the waitress. “Two beers and burgers with everything, and fries. We’ll be at the pool table.” She nodded and took his order back to the kitchen after leaving him two bottles. Dean picked his up and took a drink. “Let’s go.” Blake grabbed her beer and followed him over to the pool table. He fed the quarters into the table to release the balls and got the table set up. “Calk up your que,” he told her while he racked the balls. 

Blake grabbed a pool que and chalked up the end, going to the other side of the table and waiting for Dean. He put the triangle back on the wall and walked over to her. “Show me your stance.” Blake bent over the table, resting the pool cue on her hand. Dean walked around behind her and kicked her feet a little further apart before bending over her, wrapping his arms around her, fixing her arms. She bit her lip and tried to ignore the fact that she was getting extremely turned on again. 

Dean was fighting off a boner—again, while he showed her how to hold the que. Her tight little ass was pressed against his crotch and it was taking everything inside of him not to push into her and grind his hips. He shook his head as he did his best to explain the best way to play the game. He guided her arm before he stepped back, finally getting a little relief. “Let’s see what you’ve got.” Blake nodded and tried to clear her head before hitting the white ball, sending it crashing into the others. The break was decent enough for Dean. She was a quick study. He watched three balls roll into the pockets on the break. “Pick a color.” 

“Two stripes went in, so stripes.”

“Good girl.” He nodded as she moved around the table looking for the next shot. He watched her bend over the table again and get back into the position he’d placed her in. He could see her mentally talking herself through it. When she sank another shot he smirked. She’d be able to hustle pool in no time. She had cleared half of her balls when the waitress brought over their food. Dean took over and let her eat while he started clearing the solid colors. 

A man with full sleeves, a biker vest, and a kill everyone attitude walked up. “Wanna play?” he asked Dean, holding up a stack of bills folded. 

Dean smirked and looked over at Blake. She nodded her head and crossed one leg over the other. “Sure. Hundred bucks a game?” he asked. 

“Works for me.” Dean nodded and pushed the rest of the balls into the pockets, feeding more quarters and resetting the table. Blake smiled and watched him as she ate. He was good. They played through three games before the biker had lost all of his money and Dean had finished his food. Blake took the money Dean handed her off the table and slipped it into her pocket, jumping off the chair she was sitting in. “Ready?” he asked. 

“Yeah.”

He nodded and walked over to the bar, handing the bartender money to cover their tab. Blake waited by the door and sighed, looking around. She could get use to this life she realized. Sure there was a job to do, responsibilities, but it was free. She could do what she wanted, when she wanted. She wasn’t on anyone’s clock. Dean caught her eye and pointed back towards the restrooms. She nodded her head and watched him walk back down the hall. She rested against the side of the wall beside the door to wait. 

Movement to the right caught her eye and she ducked just as someone was about to grab her. It was the biker guy Dean had played pool against. Blake backed out through the door, watching him as he advanced on her. She saw the flash of black and swore. She didn’t have anything on her except the exorcism she butchered. She didn’t need to kill the demon, she just need to buy enough time until Dean got back. She kept backing up as the demon watched her, drawing closer. She pulled the paper Sam had given her out of her pocket and unfolded it. She wasn’t going to turn her back on the demon. 

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus,” she began. The demon grabbed her and threw her into a car, shattering the windshield. She coughed trying to get air back into her lungs and looked back at the paper. “Shit…omnis satanica potestas, omnis icuriso—” The demon jumped on top of her and wrapped his thick hand around her throat, choking the air out of her lungs. 

“Infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregation et secta diabolica.” Dean had come out of the bar and saw what was going on. He’d caught where she’d left off in the exorcism and picked up from there. The demon glared and flinched away from her, starting towards him as his body started to reject the possession. 

Blake sat up and looked back at her paper. “Ergo, draco maledicte.” He spun, growling at her. 

“Ecclesiam tuam secure tibi facias,” Dean continued. 

“Libertate servire.”

“Te rogamus.”

“Audi nos, bitch.” Blake watched as the thick black smoke forced itself from the man’s throat and disappeared. 

Dean walked over as the biker fell to the ground and helped her off of the car she’d landed on. “Are you okay?” he asked, looking her over. 

“I think so.” She stuck the paper back into her pocket. “Remind me to thank Sam for giving that to me.” She rolled her neck on her shoulders and looked up at him. “How do you to deal with that? That shit hurt.”

He sighed and put his arm around her, guiding her to the Impala and getting her inside. “We’ve done it enough times we’re pretty much used to it.” He backed out and sped away. “What happened?”

Blake shook her head. “I have no idea. I was waiting for you and he came out of nowhere.”

“Did he say anything?”

“Nope, just threw me into a car.” She glanced back at the bar that was quickly disappearing behind them. “I’m glad you showed up when you did.”

Dean sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. That was more than unusual. Usually the demon would like to brag, tell their prey why their being killed. Something was going on and he didn’t like it. He’d talk to Sam about it when they got back. He glanced at Blake. She’d done well for her first demon attack. She was smarter than he gave her credit for. The doubt he’d originally had about her being a hunter was growing smaller and smaller every day.


	4. First Hunt Part I

Reality  
Chapter 4: First Hunt Part I

Dean yawned, walking into the library. He was starving and in desperate need of the coffee he could smell coming from the kitchen. That meant Sam was already awake. He sighed and rounded one of the tables only to stop dead in his tracks. Blake was curled up on one of the leather couches he’d left her in the night before. She had her face pressed against the pages of the book on spells she’d been reading, one arm tucked under her, the other hanging off the couch, fingers brushing against the floor. He shook his head, walking over and carefully pulling the book away and setting it off to the side. Blake had been with them for about a week now and this was the fourth time he’d caught her working until she’d passed out. At least she was taking hunting seriously. 

“She talks in her sleep,” Sam said walking into the room with three cups of coffee. “She was mumbling something about the force when I came in.”

“Cute.” Dean took a cup from Sam and glanced at his laptop. He could tell from the map Sam had found a case. “Something need killing?” he asked, nodding towards the computer. 

Sam sat down with his coffee. “Yeah.” He brought up the news article that had caught his attention. “Four people have gone missing from a motel in the last week. No signs of forced entry, robbery, or foul play. They just vanished and left their cars, belongings, money, everything.” He took a sip of his coffee and glanced over at Blake as she sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes. He smirked a little. “Did you harness the power of the force young padawan?” he asked behind the rim of his coffee mug. 

“Shut up,” she mumbled. Dean watched her stand and stretch, her tee shirt riding up, giving him a peek of that belly button ring and tattoos. She stretched all the way up, reaching onto her tiptoes before dropping back down and walking over to the table. She picked up the third cup of coffee and took a sip. “What’s that?”

“A case,” Dean told her. “Go pack up, you’re going with us.”

She grinned, her eyes lighting up. “Really?”

“Yeah, I think you’re ready for a road trip.” He smirked when she squealed and hurried off to her rom. 

Sam leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “Are you sure she’s ready?” he asked. 

“I think so. Besides, it sounds like a haunting to me. It’ll be an easy first case.” He patted Sam on the shoulder. “Pack up, Sammy. We leave in thirty.” He took his coffee with him back to his room. He grabbed his bag and started throwing clothes in it. He couldn’t get Blake out of his head. He’d noticed that she’d changed the bellybutton ring. The first time he’d seen it, there’d been a moon and stars dangling there. Now she had a series of three diamonds, each one bigger than the next. He thought back to the day he’d met her. 

_He and Sam were tied tightly to chairs, surrounded by the pack they’d been hunting, waiting for the alpha to get back. Out of nowhere the werewolves started dropping one by one. Neither he or Sam were sure who was killing them. No one knew where they were except Cas and Crowley. When the door opened e watched a girl walk towards them. She had long black hair pulled back into a ponytail, eyes the color of the sky during a summer storm. He noticed the series of silver hoops, three in each ear when she bent to cut them loose. She didn’t look like a hunter, so who the hell was she?_

Dean grabbed his bag and shut off the light, closing the door behind him. Sam had his bag ready and was packing up his laptop when he got back to the library. Blake came in and set her bag on the table besides Dean’s. “Let me look,” he said, motioning her to stand back. She was wearing a pair of skinny jeans, tucked into her motorcycle boots, a back tank top under a red button down only buttoned halfway up, and her hair was falling around her shoulders in a curtain of midnight rivers. She might not have looked like a hunter when they’d met, but she did now. “Good. You packed your FBI clothes?” he asked. 

“Yes, the pants, not the skirt.”

He nodded approvingly and looked at Sam. “Let’s hear it,” Sam said. 

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursion infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica. Ergo, draco, maledicte. Ecclesiam tuam secure tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos,” she recited flawlessly. 

Sam smirked and nodded his head. “I think she’s ready.”

Dean grabbed his bag and smirked. “Let’s go kill some evil sons of bitches.” 

xXx

Dean pulled up to the motel and parked in front of the door. “Sammy, go get us a room.”

“What here?” Sam asked. “Dean, this is where the job is.”

“Yeah, and what better way to get a look around?” He smirked and patted Sam on the shoulder. “C’mon, don’t be a baby.” Sam rolled his eyes and got out, going inside. Dean turned and looked at Blake in the backseat. “You don’t have a problem sharing a room, right?”

She shook her head. “Not at all.” She smiled a little. “I’ve roughed it before, I can sleep on the floor.”

“No way in hell, you’re taking one of the beds.” 

Blake rolled her eyes. “Chivalry is dead, Dean.”

“Not in my book, princess.” He winked and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, handing her two twenty dollar bills. “There was a burger joint a block back, go get us some grub. Sam or I will text you the room number.”

“You’re letting me go alone?” It’d be the first time since meeting them she’d gone anywhere without one of them. 

“I think you can handle dinner.”

She smiled and got out of the car and slipped the money into her back pocket. “Be back soon.” She closed the door and walked out of the parking lot, heading down the street to the burger joint they’d passed. She was on cloud nine. She was hunting, with the Winchesters, something she’d thought she’d never do in her life. But this was really happening. Not only that, but they were starting to trust her. Before she knew it, Dean would let her drive the Impala…maybe. 

Blake walked into the restaurant and walked up to the counter. “What can I get you?” the waitress asked. 

“Three burgers, with everything, three fries, three Cokes.” Blake sat at the counter and looked around at the patrons. Most of them looked like locals, a few she could recognize as tourists from her years of working in a diner. The waitress put her order in and wiped down the counter. “So, can I ask you about these disappearances?” she asked. Might as well do some research while she was here. 

“It’s tragic, that’s what it is.” The waitress, Betty, leaned against the counter. “Why are you asking?”

“My cousins and I are on a road trip, we’re actually staying in the motel people have gone missing from.” She chewed her lip a little, trying to play nervous. “I’m just wondering if we should get some extra security for our room.”

Betty smiled and patted her hand. “I wouldn’t worry about it if you’re with your cousins.” She turned and took the bag of food from the cook and put it in front of Blake. 

“Why not?” she asked, pulling her money out and handing it to Betty. 

“The people who have gone missing have always been alone. I’m pretty sure they were all drifters. You know, those people who don’t really have a home.” She made the change and handed it back. 

Blake put it back in her pocket and took the food and drinks. “Thanks, Betty.” She gave her a smile and left a five on the counter before walking out. She carefully balanced the food and drinks in one arm and pulled her phone out with the other, checking the text from Dean. She walked up to the door and knocked. She waited, she could hear one of the boys on the other side, checking through the window before Dean opened the door. He slipped his gun back into his pocket and took the drinks from her, carrying them over to the table. “So, I heard a little gossip when I was at the burger joint.”

“What’s that?” he asked, pulling out the food. Sam walked out of the bathroom and sat at the table with them. 

“Betty, the waitress, told me that everyone who’s gone missing was the drifter type, someone who wasn’t traveling with anyone.”

“That’s good work,” Dean told her. “After we eat we’ll go check out the rooms people have gone missing from, swipe it for EMF or sulfur.”

“You really think a demon kidnapped those people?” Blake asked as she ate. 

“Probably not, but I’m not discounting anything at this point.” Dean sat back and looked at her. “You’re not afraid of a little demon are you?”

She shook her head. “After getting thrown into a windshield by one, I say bring it on. I could use a little payback.”

“Good girl.”

After they’d finished eating they geared up and headed out of the room. “Which room first?” Dean asked, pulling out his EMF reader. 

“One-oh-six,” Blake answered, “that’s where the last disappearance happened, so it’s our best chance to pick up EMF.”

“You’re good,” Dean praised. “Keep it up.” He led them down the hall to the room. Sam bent to pick the lock, but Dean stopped him. “Let Blake do it.” Sam passed off the lock-picking kit and stepped back. “You ever pick a lock before?”

Blake shook her head, crouching down in front of the lock. “I’ll talk you through it.” Sam crouched beside her. “Pull out the tension wrench, yeah that one. Now, insert it into the bottom of the key hole, good, don’t put too much pressure on it.” Blake nodded, carefully following Sam’s instructions. “Doing great, sweetheart. Next, put the pick in the top of the lock. Now all you have to do is apply a little torque to the wrench and scrub the pick back and forth. You’ll feel it give when it unlocks.”

She bit her lip and did as he said, moving the pick back and forth while twisting the wrench. She smiled when she heard the lock slide open and the door gave way. “I have the best teachers,” she said, standing up and handing the kit back to Sam. 

Dean smirked and put a hand on her shoulder and walked inside. He slowly walked around the room, scanning it with his EMF reader. Sam started in the bathroom while Blake opened drawers of the dresser, looking around. She glanced over at Dean. The EMF reader was going crazy. 

“Looks like we definitely have a haunting.” He turned the EMF off and looked over at Sam as he came out of the bathroom. “You two finding anything?”

“Nothing in there,” Sam said. “Blake?”

“Uhm…yeah, I think so.” She was looking behind the dresser and frowned. She pulled the pocket flashlight out of her back pocket and turned it on, shinning it between the wall and the dresser. “Guys, give me a hand with this.” She stood up and pushed on the corner. Sam and Dean quickly came over and pulled the dresser away from the wall enough for her to crawl between. She wedged herself in as far as she could and reached out, swiping her finger over the black goop coming out of the electrical socket. 

“What is it?” Dean asked. 

She crawled backwards on one hand and an elbow and stood up, showing her fingers covered in the black slime to the boys. “Ectoplasm.” 

“Son of a bitch.” Dean looked at Sam and they quickly made their way back to their room. “Go wash that off your hand,” he ordered, dropping the EMF reader on the bed. Blake frowned a bit, not knowing what the big deal was but did as she was told. She went into the bathroom and sighed, washing the gross sticky substance off her fingers. When she came back out, Dean was loading up his sawed off with rock salt. He looked up at her. “You stay in this room, you don’t leave, you don’t open the door for anyone but me or Sam. Understand?”

Her brows knitted, but she nodded. “Yeah, sure, but…Dean what’s going on?”

He took her by the shoulder and led her to the table, sitting her down in front of Sam’s laptop. “Start researching, figure out who died here and where they’re buried.” He cocked his shotgun, the shells sliding into the chamber. “This is a badass mother if he’s producing ectoplasm. You’re staying here, Sam and I will deal with the ghost.”

She sighed but nodded her head. She wasn’t going to argue with Dean, not when he looked like he was ready to bite her head off. She pulled her own sawed off out of her bag and the case of rock salt shells she’d packed herself, making sure it was fully loaded before setting it beside her. She opened up the laptop and started working. “Be careful,” she called, watching Sam and Dean walk out of the room. 

Blake frowned a bit and started combing through the internet search results about deaths on the motel. She was half through her fifth finding when the lights started to flicker. “Son of a bitch.” She grabbed her sawed off and looked around, waiting for the ghost to show itself. She kept her eye on the electrical outlets she could see, that’s where the ectoplasm was, and that’s where he would come from. 

The temperature in the room dropped dramatically, a shiver ran down her spine. “Come on you son of a bitch, show yourself,” she taunted. She grabbed her phone and dialed Dean’s number. 

“Blake? What’s going on?”

“It’s here, in the room.” She turned, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. He was right behind her and she knew exactly who it was. She recognized him from the search result she’d been reading when he’d appeared. She dropped her phone on the ground and fired off a shot. Magnus disappeared with a cry. 

“Blake! Blake!” 

She picked up her phone and put it to her ear, looking around the room slowly. “I’m here.”

“What happened?”

“Noth—” She was knocked forward, a strong force slamming into the small of her back. She hit her stomach on the edge of the table, the air soaring from her lungs on impact. Her shotgun and phone fell to the floor, scattering away from her. The ghost of Magnus threw her into the wall, smashing her back against a picture frame. She could feel the glass digging into her skin. Magnus approached her grabbing her around the throat. She struggled to breathe, struggled to keep her vision from going black, but it started to seep in around the edges.


	5. First Hunt Part II

Reality  
Chapter 5: First Hunt Part II

Dean kicked the door of their motel room open, gun at the ready to fight off whatever was on the other side. The only problem was that nothing was on the other side except a trashed room. He swore and walked in, looking around. “Damn it.” He kicked the chair out of the way. “He got her, the son of a bitch.”

Sam went to the laptop and looked at the screen Blake had up. “But Blake left us a clue.” He moved to the side so Dean could read the article. 

“Good girl.” He scanned the article looking for the location of the bones. “Son of a bitch was cremated.” He was getting worried. Blake was his responsibility. He never should have let her out of the damn bunker. He was going to get her killed. 

“You’re right, but,” Sam pointed at a piece of the article Dean had looked right over. When he was alive, Magnus Dent, their resident evil spirit, had been manager of the motel and had abducted and killed two dozen people in the basement. He’d cut out their eyes and tongues before slowly cutting their hearts out of their chests. The damn motel had framed the knife above the front desk. Sam looked at Dean. “Go to the basement, that’s where he would take Blake. I’ll get the knife.”

Dean nodded. He didn’t waste any time, he tore out of the room and headed straight for the basement. It was a maze of pipes and steam from the boiler that was working overtime to provide enough hot water for the guests. “Blake!” He pulled his flashlight and shone it around as he carefully maneuvered through the pipes. “Blake!”

“Dean?” she called out. “Dean!”

He shone the light in the direction of her voice. She was pushing herself up off of the floor on shaky legs. He ran over and steadied her, taking her weight onto his side. “Are you alright?” he asked, looking over for any signs of injury. 

“I’m okay.” She looked around. “Just got a headache.” She shook her head and grabbed the wall for support so she could take it off of Dean. “What happened?”

“Magnus happened.” He looked her over, carefully. She might have said she was fine, but she was pale and shaky. Getting kidnapped by a vicious ghost could do that to you. “Where is he?”

She didn’t get the chance to answer. Magnus threw Dean into a series of pipes on the ceiling, creating a fog in the room, too thick to see through. “Dean!” Blake ran over and helped him off of the floor. 

“Son of a bitch.” Dean shook his head and put his gun up, ready to blast the ghost. “Where’d he go?”

“I don’t know,” Blake said shaking her head. “I can’t see anything with all of the steam.” She pressed her back against Dean’s looking through the fog. She spotted what she hoped was an iron pole by her feet and picked it up. “You don’t have any salt, do you?”

“No, I left it in the room.” Dean scanned the area carefully. Blake was right, the steam was too thick to see through. “C’mon, Sammy.”

“Where is Sam?”

“The knife above the front desk, that’s what he’s connected to. Sam’s burning it.” Dean took a shot when he saw a flash of movement in front of him. 

“Did you get him?”

“I don’t know.” Apparently not. Blake cried out when she was pulled away from Dean and thrown into the wall. Magnus appeared in front of her, holding a knife in his hand. He started cutting into her skin. “Damn it.” Dean fired at him and pulled Blake back into him. 

“Bastard,” she muttered. “I really liked this shirt.” If the situation wasn’t so deadly, Dean would have laughed. She fit right in. Her head snapped up. “Dean!” He spun around and blasted Magnus again. “What the hell is Sam doing?” 

“I don’t know, but he better hurry up.” Dean looked around, trying to get ahead of Magnus before he could get to them again. The ghost appeared beside them and threw Dean across the room before he could turn and shoot him. Dean grunted, his back hitting the brick wall. His sawed off went sliding across the floor out of reach. “Son of a bitch.”

“Dean!” Blake cried out. “Where are you?”

“I’m okay.” He got up slowly and looked around. Magnus jumped him, pinning him to the wall and started carving into his chest. Dean cried out as his skin split open. 

“Damn it,” Blake started crawling around on the ground, looking for Dean’s sawed off, trying to tune out his near screams of pain as Magnus tried to cut out his heart. She bumped into the boiler and swore, shaking her head. She saw a bag of water softener and smirked. “Bingo.” She grabbed the bag and tore through it with her nails, grabbing a fist full and threw it in the direction of Dean’s voice. 

“What the hell was that?” he asked, panting and leaning against the wall.

“Did it work?”

“Yeah, he’s gone.”

“Water softener.” Blake grabbed two bags and dragged them to Dean. “C’mon,” she handed him one of the bags. He tore it open and they quickly made a circle around them. When they were relatively safe, she turned and looked at Dean’s chest. He was bleeding through the rips in his shirt from the knife. “Shit, you’re going to need stitches.”

“I’ll be alright.” He looked around, trying to block out the pain. “Any chance you saw the shotgun?” he asked. Blake shook her head. “Wonderful.” Blake jumped with a scream when Magnus appeared at the very edge of the salt circle in front of her. 

“You are one ugly SOB,” she muttered, backing up into Dean’s chest. He put one arm around her, ready to mover her behind him if Magnus managed to break the salt line. The ghost suddenly went up in flames with a scream. 

“About damn time, Sammy.” Dean and Blake relaxed back against the wall with a sigh. He looked down at Blake as the fog finally started to dissipate a little. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” She pushed her hair out of her face and walked across the salt line, picking the shotgun up off the floor. “Let’s go.” Dean followed her up the stairs where Sam was waiting for them. 

“Are you two okay?” he asked. 

“Nothing some stitches won’t fix,” Dean assured him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Go get the field kit from the car.” Sam nodded and ran out after taking the keys from Dean. Dean led Blake back to the room. She stopped outside of the door and looked at the frame where the wood splintered when he’d kicked it open. “It was locked and I was worried,” he said with a shrug, walking inside. 

“I see.” She followed him and pulled out a chair from the table, the one Dean hadn’t kicked a leg off of. “There goes our deposit,” she muttered. “Strip and sit.”

“Bossy.” Dean grabbed a bottle of Johnny Blue from his bag and took a drink. He pulled his button down off his shoulders and lifted his tee shirt over his head with a hiss. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered, all but falling into the chair. He took a long pull from the bottle and looked up at her. “Wanna play doctor?” he smirked. 

Blake rolled her eyes and went to the bathroom, soaking a washcloth in warm water. She came back when Sam entered the room, putting the field kit on the table beside Dean. “I’m gonna go get some food,” he said picking up on what Dean and Blake hadn’t yet. “I’ll be back.”

Dean watched him leave, closing the door as best he could with the broken frame and sighed. “He better get me some damn pie.” 

“Don’t be a baby.” Blake kicked his legs closer together and straddled his hips, resting far enough back she was only sitting on his knees. He looked away, trying to think of anything other than the sexy, gorgeous, completely fuckable woman on his lap. He took a few hard pulls from the bottle, hoping the burn of the alcohol would be a good distraction. But then she had to start touching him. Her fingers were gentle as she washed away the blood dripping down his skin from the cut on his chest. Each little stroke of her tiny, nimble fingers ignited a spark in his skin and he had to bite his lip hard. She gently cleaned away most of the blood and opened the field kit, pulling out the needle and thread. 

“Ever don’t this before?” he asked, watching her as she threaded the needle then ran it through an open flame, disinfecting it. 

“No, but I can sew, same basic principle.” She turned back to him and looked up into his eyes. “Trust me?” He swallowed hard, trying to push the lump in his throat down. He settled for a nod instead. She smiled and pushed her hair back and to the side, tilting her head so more light fell onto his chest. He flinched with the first pinch of the needle and looked anywhere but at what she was doing. “You were pretty worried, huh?” she asked softly. 

“What makes you say that?”

“You trashed the room.”

He sighed and looked down at her. Her eyes were focused, her hands steady as she stitched him up. She was so damn gorgeous. “Yeah, I was worried. You’re my responsibility.” 

She flicked her eyes up to his briefly before looking back at what she was doing. “Is that all?”

Son of a bitch. He watched the nervous way she bit her lip, the way her eyes darkened slightly. He could feel her body rocking on top of his with her movements. Electricity was flowing through her fingers into his chest. She was going to be the death of him. He didn’t answer her. He couldn’t. He took another drink as she finished the stitches and tied off the thread, putting the needle off to the side. She started to climb off of him, but he grabbed her thighs, holding her in place. “Take off your shirt,” he whispered. 

Blake bit her lip slowly but did as he told her and dropped her button down on the floor, pulling her tank top over her head. He pulled out a new needle and threaded it. He handed the bottle of Johnny Blue to her. “Take a drink.” She wrapped her fingers around the bottle and tipped it back, swallowing the amber liquid. “Good girl.” He took the bottle and set it to the side. He wrapped an arm around her as he shifted in the chair, turning so she could lean back against the table. The new position pulled her hips too damn close to his. He tried to ignore the way they shifted against him when he leaned over her, putting the needle to her skin. “Got you good, didn’t he?”

She hissed with the pinch of the needle piercing her skin, her fingers clawing at the edge of the table. “Perks of the job,” she muttered, voice strained. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’ll be quick.” He was going to try anyways. The cut on her chest was directly between her breasts and he had to remember that he was trying to stitch her up, not turn her on, despite what his dick was thinking. Her cut wasn’t as long as his thankfully. He tied off the thread when he’d finished and grabbed the bottle of Johnny Blue and poured a little onto her skin, disinfecting the wound. 

Blake hissed and arched up against him as the scotch ran down her skin. Dean groaned, his head tipping forward as he bit his lip, his eyes sliding shut. He opened them slowly and looked up at her. Her storm grey eyes were riotous, dark thunderclouds of lust. She ran her hand up his bare arm, the muscles flexing under her skin. He dipped his head, licking a trail of the scotch off her skin, around the stitches, up to her neck. She moaned softly under him, her fingers digging into his shoulders. “Dean,” she whispered, needy, breathlessly. 

He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her off the table, the other fisted into her hair, tilting her head back as he kissed her. Oh, fuck, he was so done for. She tasted like vanilla and mangos. It exploded over his tongue as he ran his fingers through her hair, over her skin. She rocked against him, needy little sounds coming from her throat. He needed to feel her against him. Dean knew this probably wasn’t a good idea, but fuck it. 

He slid his hand up her back and unclasped her bra with a flick of the wrist. She pulled it from her arms and dumped it on the floor with their already discarded shirts. Dean cupped her ass in her hands and carried her over to the bed, lying her out on the sheets. He stood over her, his hands pulling his belt free. He watched her arch her back on the bed, popping the button on her jeans and pushing them down her legs. He bit his lip, watching that sexy trio of diamonds glitter in her navel. 

“Fuck,” he bit out, kicking his jeans out of the way. “You’re killing me.” He climbed onto the bed, crawling up the mattress until she cradled his hips in the juncture of her thighs. He groaned as his cock shifted against her. He was hard and aching for her. 

Blake rocked her hips against his, driving his desire higher as he fisted his hand in her hair again, pulling her into a bruising kiss. Lips, teeth, and tongues clashed. Dean’s hands fumbled with her panties, trying desperately to get them down her legs. She kicked them off and pushed them off the bed and reached down, slipping his boxers off his legs. “Son of a bitch,” he swore, getting them tangled around his feet. He rolled onto his side and forced them off. He maneuvered her onto her side and spooned her back, nestling his cock against her pussy. 

She dropped her head back against his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her hips, guiding her movement. He was so hard against her, she needed him to fill her, stretch her. “Dean, please,” she begged. 

He buried his head in the crook of her neck and reached a hand between her thighs, running his fingers over her folds. “You’re so wet,” he whispered harshly. He couldn’t catch his breath. “I’ve barely touched you.”

“Need you.”

“Don’t worry baby girl, I’m gonna take care of you.” He brushed his knuckles over her clit and her back arched sharply against him as she came hard around his fingers. He growled and grasped his aching cock in his hand, guiding it to her dripping, hot, opening. He snapped his hips forward, burying himself inside of her in a quick thrust, filling her completely. Blake fisted the sheets in her fingers, biting her lip until she drew blood. Dean bit down on her shoulder, leaving an angry love mark. “So fucking perfect,” he whispered against her skin. Nothing about their coupling was slow or easy. It couldn’t be. They’d been fighting off the attraction for too damn long. He kept a hand fisted in her hair, pulling her head back as he rode her hard, his other hand bruising her hip. 

Blake couldn’t catch her breath, couldn’t think. All she could do was feel. Her nerve endings were ablaze with the sensations streaming through her. She was still coming down from one orgasm while Dean quickly pushed her towards the next. She was too full, too hot, melting against him as he filled her pussy again and again. His lips left a hot trail over her neck, biting and licking and sucking. 

Sweat pooled in their stitched, creating a delicious sensation of pained pleasure. Dean pulled his cock from her and rolled onto her back, pulling her until she was straddling his hips. Blake didn’t waste time getting him back inside of her. She impaled herself on him, letting her hair fall back, sweat damped hair brushed against her back as she braced her hands on his chest, riding him. “Son of a bitch.” Dean gripped her hips, framing the tattoos on her hips as she rocked against him. He bit his lip, his eyes watching her, taking everything in as she swayed and rocked on him. Her breasts swayed and bounced with every thrust of her hips. The muscles in her neck flexed as she called out his name on a breathless moan.

He slid his hands up her body, cupping her breasts, brushing his thumb over hardened nipples. She tipped her head forward, her dark hair falling over her shoulder in a curtain of midnight. She bit her lip, her stormy eyes staring into his, pupils blown wide with the animalistic lust charging through her. He slipped a hand around her back, pulling her closer, guiding her hips. The other fisted in her hair. He sat up and crashed his lips against hers. He was getting close to blowing. He was dizzy, hot, breathless. 

Dean wrapped a leg around her hips and rolled, pinning her to the bed under him. She dug her nails into his back, leaving scratch marks all along his skin as he slammed into her. He braced his hands against the headboard, using it as leverage to pull himself deeper inside of her. Muscles straining, sweat dripping, he stared down at her as he rode her. “Gotta come for me, baby,” he panted. A hand left the headboard and found her clit, rubbing it in tight little circles. 

“Oh fuck.” Blake’s back snapped into a gorgeous arch as her pussy contracted and coiled around his cock, her orgasm tearing through her hard. Dean growled and dipped his head in her neck, biting down on the skin as he came hard, his arms shaking from the sheer strain of it. He managed to roll and lay beside her before his arms gave out under his weight. They struggled to catch their breath as he pulled her against his chest, wrapping his arm around her, his fingers stroking through her hair. “Holy shit,” she whispered. 

He smirked a bit and looked down at her. “Doing okay there, princess?”

“Oh yeah.” She smiled and looked up at him, leaning up and kissing him. She rested her head against his shoulder and draped an arm over his chest, her fingers lightly tracing his tattoo, completely blissed out. “We should take a shower before Sam gets back.”

He sighed and kissed her head, running his knuckles up and down her spine. “Yeah.” They laid there as long as they dared before managing to drag each other into the bathroom. Too sensitive, too hungry, and too completely satisfied for a round of shower sex, Dean enjoyed the view, watching the water cascade down her body, chasing away clumps of bubbles as mango filled his senses. He watched the muscles in her back work as she rinsed water through her hair, the tattoos decorating her skin all but coming to life under his gaze. This girl was trouble. 

By the time they managed to get out of the shower and get dressed, Sam was back with food. He was doing something on his laptop and had managed to somewhat clean up the room. He looked up at them with a smirk as they emerged from the shower. “Have fun?” he asked. 

“Don’t be jealous,” Dean teased, walking over and pulling food from the bag. 

Blake smiled and sat between them at the table and tore into the tacos Sam had brought back, moaning as she filled her belly. “Tacos after sex? Best idea ever. Thanks, Sam.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Next time, I’m getting my own damn room,” he muttered, closing his laptop. 

Blake and Dean laughed as he walked over to the bed they hadn’t fucked in and collapsed onto the mattress. She looked over at Dean who winked at her. She blushed lightly and concentrated on her food. If there was one thing Dean was, it was trouble, and she was in it deep.


	6. There's No Place Like Home

Reality  
Chapter 6: There’s No Place Like Home

Blake rolled over, burying her head in Dean’s naked chest. His arms wrapped a little tighter around her and his lips brushed her temple. She breathed deeply, his scent of musk, leather, and gunpowder filled her nose. She smiled a little as he started to stroke his fingers through her hair. It was a good way to wake up in the morning. “You two awake?” Sam asked from the table. 

“Just,” she croaked out, voice thick from sleep. “Why don’t you come cuddle with us?” Dean groaned above her and she giggled. “My back’s cold,” she whined. 

Sam laughed and looked over at them. “She might be more than you can handle, Dean.” He crossed his arms over his chest watching them as they slowly sat up. 

Blake brought her knees up to her chest and scrubbed a hand through her hair, pushing it over one side of her head. Dean rubbed the heels of his hands against his eyes, scrubbing away sleep. “I’m not sharing,” he muttered. He tossed the sheets back and padded into the bathroom. 

Blake smiled and shook her head. She grabbed her laptop off the floor beside the bed where she’d left it and checked her old email account. She wasn’t expecting anything important, but it didn’t hurt to look. Every now and then someone from her old life would email her. She chewed on her lip as she deleted the spam, looking for anything important. 

An email from one of the girls she’d gone to high school with, and somewhat kept in contact with had her frowning at the screen. “Sam…” She carefully read the email. “We need to go home, back to my town.” She looked up at him as a chill spread through her. 

He got up and walked over, sitting on the bed beside her. “What’s wrong?”

She read the email one more time. “I don’t know…I just…it’s a bad feeling.” Dean came out of the bathroom and looked at them. “This girl I went to high school with emailed me. Five different people from our graduating class have died in the last week. There’s going to be a mass funeral in a couple days.” Sam and Dean shared a look. It was more than a little odd that five people from the same high school class had died. “It’s a job, isn’t it?” she asked. 

“We don’t know that yet,” Dean assured her. “But we do need to check it out.”

Blake sighed and rubbed her eyes. “I’m taking the Winchesters back to Berrien. This is going to be fun.” 

“What, do we embarrass you?” Sam teased, getting up. 

She grabbed her clothes and sighed. “No, not at all, it’s just…okay, I’ve been “missing” for a little over a week now. I’m just going to turn up again with two extremely attractive men? It’s a small town boys, people talk.” She walked into the bathroom to change. People were going to do more than talk when she went home. They were going to go bat shit crazy. Her life would be the biggest piece of gossip for a while. 

When she came back out of the bathroom Sam and Dean had everything packed up and ready to go. “We’ll get some breakfast on the road,” Dean said watching her. “You sure you don’t want to sit this one out? We could take you back to the bunker.”

Blake shook her head. “No, this is my home, I might have hated it there, but I should be there to help.” Dean nodded and led them out of the room. Blake sighed and climbed into the backseat, trying to figure out what was killing people she’d known practically her whole life. This wasn’t going to be an easy case. 

xXx

Blake sank a little further down on her seat as Dean drove through her hometown. She hadn’t been gone that long but after everything that had happened to her, she felt like a stranger. She directed Dean to the local motel and smiled a little when he swore at all of the construction. “I used to joke around with myself that it was demons, trying to keep us locked in so they could spread the Croatoan virus.”

Dean turned and looked at her. “Why the hell would you joke about that?”

“I didn’t know it was real!” She crossed her arms as he pulled up to the motel. “It was just a show.” Sam chuckled as they climbed out of the car. “I’ll go get us a room and hope that I don’t know who’s working the desk.” She slammed her door and walked into the lobby. She sighed, pushing her hair over her head and looked around. She’d never actually been inside this building. She walked over to the front desk, grateful to not know who was working and got a room for them. 

She cracked her neck as she walked back outside and waved the boys over to the room. She stared climbing the stairs and looked around. The health food store was across the street, busy as always. Cars were lined up at the bank and the local AutoZone was packed. She took a deep breath and glanced over to the left. It was the beginning of August, so the local 4H fair was in full swing. That was going to make things hard. She just knew they were going to have to go in there. 

Blake unlocked the room and walked inside walking to the window and cranking the air-conditioning unit under it. Dean walked in and dropped their bags on the bed while Sam sat his laptop bag on the table. “What’s first?” Dean asked. 

“Well, I have a date.” Blake ran a hand through her hair. “I emailed Brittany back, she’s meeting me at the bar.” She opened her bag and pulled out her wallet, sliding cash, credit cards, and her I.D. out. 

“Well you’re not going alone.” Dean pulled his gun out and checked to make sure it was loaded. “Especially if whatever is killing people is after people in your graduating class.” 

She groaned a little. “Can’t you two stay here and do some research?” Sam and Dean crossed their arms, resolved in their decision that she wasn’t going anywhere alone. “Fine,” she muttered. She walked back down to the car and climbed in. She sighed and directed Dean back to the bar. He parked on the street and she climbed out, looking around. Lenny was dressed up as the bar’s mascot, standing on the corner, waving at cars the drove by. She smiled at him as she walked past. “Hey Lenny.” 

The bar was noisy and already packed with people getting off of work, or getting ready to head over to the fair grounds. She looked around the bar at all of the familiar faces and saw Brittany sitting in a corner booth. She turned and looked at Sam and Dean. “Go play pool or something,” she said before walking over to the booth. 

Brittany smiled and looked up at her as she slid into the leather seat. “Hey! I was starting to think you stood me up.”

Blake smiled a little. “Sorry, traffic was a bitch. I just got in.” She looked over at Chrissy who walked over. “I’ll take a cranberry vodka.” She sighed and looked back at Brittany. “So, what’s been going on?” she asked. 

“Nu-uh, we’re not talking about me. You’re the one we’re going to talk about.” Blake rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, Blake. You leave the diner one morning and no one sees or hears from you again, your car is missing, and your apartment is cleaned out. The only way we knew you were alive was because you’d answer an email when it suited you.” She smirked and leaned across the table as Chrissy left her drink. “And I saw those guys you walked in here with.” Brittany looked over towards the pool table. 

Blake followed her gaze, her eyes growing inside of her head. Dean and Sam were getting into a game with DJ and Ben, both of whom she’d dated at one point. She saw four pairs of eyes look over at her. They never should have come here. She turned and looked back at Brittany. “Oh fuck me,” she muttered, sucking down her drink. There was not enough alcohol in the world to make this okay. She was suddenly very happy that Berrien was such a religious town, hardly anyone knew about Supernatural, or who Sam and Dean were. 

“So, dish, who are they?” Brittany asked, sitting back and sipping on her margarita. 

“Sam and Dean,” Blake answered. “They’re friends.”

“Mhm,” Brittany hummed. “I wouldn’t mind being friends with them.” 

Blake rubbed her eyes. “Brit, can we talk about why I came back?” She was getting a headache and waved Chrissy over for another drink. 

Brittany sighed but conceded. “Mike, Kayla, Lindsey, Sean, and Terrance all died.” She frowned, playing with the salt on the rim of her glass. “It’s not the fact that they died, I mean, we all have to go sometime, it’s how they died.”

Blake leaned a little closer. “How did they die?”

Brit sighed and looked around the room. “Mike impaled himself on an arrow while he was shooting, gearing up for deer season. Kayla hung herself with a volleyball net. Lindsey slit her wrists baking one night. Sean shot himself in the head with his shot gun, and Terrance over dosed on drugs.” She shook her head. “It’s a little scary to think they all committed suicide.”

Blade nodded and stared down at her drink. It didn’t sound like suicide to her. Not that many cases of it. She didn’t want to think about it, but she had the bad feeling that they were dealing with a witch. “I’ll be right back.” She finished her drink and walked over towards the pool table. 

She saw the money lying on the table and rolled her eyes. DJ and Ben were dicks, so maybe the deserved to be hustled out of some of their money, but she wished Sam and Dean could behave for once. They all looked up at her when she walked to stand between the brothers. “Thought you’d left,” Ben said, chalking up his cue. 

“Yeah,” DJ said leaning over the table to take a shot. “But now Ben owes me a hundred bucks. I said you’d never stay away.” He looked up and winked at her. “You’d miss me too much.”

“Right, because you’re such a catch.” She rolled her eyes and looked at Dean. “Can we talk for a minute?” He nodded and handed the pool cue to Sam and followed her over to the juke box where they could have a little privacy. “I talked to Brittany, apparently they were all suicides.”

“But you don’t believe that,” Dean clarified, crossing his arms. 

She shook her head. “Not that many, not when they’re all people I graduated with.” She sighed and looked around the bar. “I don’t know, it’s just not right.”

He nodded and looked around. “Alright, you stay here, talk with the locals some more. I’ll go check out the crime scenes, see what I can find.” 

“Okay.” She watched him go over to Sam and talk for a minute before he left. Blake sighed and looked around. She rubbed her eyes. Talking to any of these people was going to be a nightmare. She turned and ran right into Matt. She stumbled back into the juke box and looked up at him. He smirked down at her, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Hey, Blake. Glad to see you’re okay.”

“Yeah.” She tried to move around him but he leaned in, caging her against the juke box. She chewed her lip. Matt wasn’t someone she wanted to be alone with. He’d had a major crush on her in school that had never really gone away. The one day she’d gone on with him had been a disaster. He’d tried to force himself on her in his car on some back country road. She’d managed to get away and call for a ride. He’d pretty much hated her ever since, but he still wanted her. She’d felt bad for him. People had teased and picked on him since the fourth grade. But after what he’d pulled, he kind of deserved it. 

“What’s the rush?” he asked. “It’s been a while since I’ve had you all to myself.” He dropped a hand from the juke box and put it on her thigh, running it up to her hip.

“Matt, stop,” she said pushing at his chest. 

“Hey,” he snapped, grabbing her shoulders and slamming her against the juke box. “Knock it off, I just want to talk to you.”

“You need to back off, now.” Blake looked up at Sam. He looked dangerous. 

Matt turned his head and gave Sam a once over. “Wait your turn pal, I’m sure she’ll give you a ride for free.” He smirked at Blake. “She’s always been easy.”

Sam grabbed him and punched him, knocking him back into one of the tables. “Let’s go, Blake.” He took her arm and led her out of the bar. “Who was that?”

“Matt, the local dick.” She glanced back at the bar as they walked down the street. “He’s hated me since I ran away from a date we were on when he tried to force himself on me in the car.” Sam growled and started to turn around to go back inside. “Leave it,” she said grabbing his arm. “Let’s just go talk to some more people.”

“Who?” he asked. 

Blake sighed a little. “Our best shot is going to be going to the fair. Everyone is going to be there and they love to gossip.” She pulled her phone out and looked at the time. “They’re closing in an hour, we’ll go tomorrow.” 

They made their way back to the motel to wait for Dean to show up. Sam ordered a pizza while Blake took a shower. She needed to wash the feeling of Matt’s hands on her away. She was leaning against the wall, letting the water rain down on her when she heard the door open. She peeked around the curtain. Dean was leaning against the sink. “You want to tell me why you didn’t let Sam beat that bastard to a bloody mess on the bar floor?” 

She rolled her eyes and shut off the water. “Because Matt isn’t worth it.” She wrapped a towel around herself and climbed out. “He’s just a low life creep.” 

Dean walked over and took her hips in his hands, looking down at her. “I don’t like the fact that he had his hands on you.”

She smiled a little and patted his cheek. “Don’t worry. They weren’t there long.” She toweled off and pulled her clothes on. “Did you find anything?” she asked. 

“Yeah,” Dean sighed and pulled a little brown pouch out of his pocket. “Hex bags. One at each of the apartments people died in.” 

Blake frowned and took one from him, looking at it as they walked out of the bathroom. “So we’re dealing with a witch?”

“Not just any witch,” Sam said looking over at them. He had one of the hex bags open on the table. “A pretty powerful one.”

Blake sighed and sat at the table with them. “Now we just need to figure out who it is.” She looked at the hex bag as an uneasy feeling settled in her stomach. Things were going to get a lot worse. She just knew it.


	7. Past Mistakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you waiting for another chapter of Been to Hell, it'll be up sometime tomorrow. Today was crazy busy and I'm too exhausted to try to write another chapter tonight. I'm going to go pass out in my bed.

Reality  
Chapter 7: Past Mistakes

Blake stayed close to Sam and Dean as they walked the crowded, noisy streets of the fairgrounds. If they wanted to get some real gossip on what had been going on, this was the place to do it. Kids and teenagers were running around in packs, trying to fit in as many rides as possible before it was time to leave. Parents were enjoying the time alone, and the older generation were lazily walking around, taking in all the sights. It smelled like cotton candy, corndogs, and farm. 

Dean looked around, uneasy with the whole situation. “So, this is what you do for fun in a small town?” he asked, looking at Blake. 

She nodded and led them towards the common area with all of the picnic tables and long road of food vendors. “It’s the biggest part of the summer. People come from all over the state to enter animals, food, whatever. There’s a rodeo on Thursday, concerts on Tuesday and Wednesday, Friday is the tractor pull, Saturday is the motocross rally.” She smiled a little. “It used to be fun.”

“Used to be?” Sam asked. 

“The older you get the less fun it is. When I was younger I’d raise hell all over this place from the time it opened until it closed. I practically lived here for a week.” Blake stopped in the middle of the grassy area, next to a large flowerbed and a clock tower. “Now, it’s just noisy, crowded, and expensive.” 

“Yeah, but I bet the food tastes amazing,” Dean said hopefully, looking at all of the different booths. 

Blake laughed. “That place,” she said pointing, “has the best cheese fries. I would live off of those when I’d come here. There’s no place better.”

Dean smirked. “Three cheese fries, coming up.” He made his way through the crowd of people to the booth.

Sam shook his head. “He’s going to have a heart attack one day.” 

“At least he’ll go happy.” Blake looked around for a familiar face. Someone she could talk to about all of the deaths who wouldn’t mind a little gossip. She saw Lindsey with her husband and best friend sitting at a picnic table. That was her best shot. “I found someone to talk to,” she told Sam. He followed her over to the table. “Lindsey, hey,” she said smiling. 

“Oh my god, Blake!” Lindsey got up and hugged her, followed by her best friend, Chris. “I thought you skipped town.”

“Yeah,” Stephan, Lindsey’s husband said. “It was the biggest gossip around.”

“I did.” Blake sat at the table with Sam. “I came back for the funerals.” She glanced up, trying to keep an eye out for Dean. “Do you guys know what happened?”

Chris smirked and leaned across the table. “I heard they all had it coming.” 

“What do you mean?”

Lindsey punched Chris and sighed. “Look, it’s no secret that they were all dicks in high school. They were the popular kids. Remember that scandal that happened with…oh crap, what’s his name?”

Blake nodded. “Yeah, with Matt. They were going to put it a hit out on him.” She rubbed her temples. That had been a nightmare. The whole school had to gather in the gym for a lecture that lasted half the day. “But that doesn’t explain why they killed themselves.”

“No, but about a week before he died, Mike came in to get his hair cut. He was going on and on about the good old days. Then, out of nowhere he started crying, saying how sorry he was. He was pretty freaked out. He kept saying he was seeing his death.”

Blake frowned and looked up at Sam as Dean finally made his way over and set down the cheese fries. “What’d I miss?” he asked. 

“Blake, you want to introduce us?” Chris asked. 

Dean held out his hand. “I’m her boyfriend, Dean and that’s my little brother, Sam.”

Lindsey shook his hand, her eyes wide as she looked between him and Blake. “Boyfriend?” Blake was going to kill Dean. “You’ve been gone a week and you come back with a hot boyfriend and his extremely attractive brother?”

Stephan looked at her. “Hi, I’m Stephan, your husband.” Lindsey rolled her eyes. 

Blake shrugged. “What can I say?” Seriously, what could she say? She elbowed Dean in the ribs. “So, Mike said he was seeing his death a week before it happened?” she asked. 

“That’s what he said.” Lindsey shrugged. “I guess the others were acting weird too. Lindsey wouldn’t leave her house. She said he was out to get her.”

“Who was out to get her?” Sam asked. He was giving Lindsey that puppy dog look. The one that would make anyone spill anything. 

She shrugged. “No clue.” 

Blake sighed and sat back. “Thanks. We’ll let you get back to eating.” She got up and grabbed Dean’s arm. She pulled them away and looked for a semi private place to talk. “I think I know who’s killing these people,” she said. 

“Who?” Dean moaned around a fry. “You weren’t kidding these things are amazing!”

“Focus, Dean.” She started to lead them back towards the tractors. That would be their best bet for a little privacy. Not many people hung out there. “We can fill your stomach after we stop a witch.” She started to lead them through a particularly large crowd of people. They were elbow to elbow. Blake was counting on Sam keeping an eye on them since he pretty much towered over everyone else. She felt a hand on her elbow and followed it, hoping Dean could get her out of the mess of people. Yeah, she was so over fairs. She never made it to the tractors. 

Sam looked around after they’d made it through the people. Dean was pushing his way through, trying not to lose the fries in his hands. “Where’s Blake?” Sam asked. 

Dean looked around, instantly forgetting about his stomach and the amazing cheese fries. “I thought she was with you.”

“Damn it.” Sam walked over to a clear bench and climbed on top of it, looking over the heads of everyone walking around. “I don’t see her.” 

“Son of a bitch!” Dean was panicking. He pulled out his phone and called Blake’s. He paced, his anxiety spiking with every ring. When it went to voicemail he swore and hung up. “She’s not answering her phone.”

Sam climbed off the bench. He was just as worried as Dean. “We need to go back to the motel.”

“Are you crazy?” Dean snapped. 

Sam took his shoulders. “Dean, we don’t even know who the witch is. We need to go do more research.” Dean didn’t like it. But Sam was right. He nodded and followed Sam out of the fair grounds and back to the motel. 

xXx

Blake’s head rolled on her shoulders when she woke up. The last thing she remembered was being led out of the crowd of people at the fairgrounds. Now, she was tied to a chair in a basement. “Shit.” She tugged on the ropes keeping her hands behind her back, testing their strength. 

“You’re not going anywhere, Blake.” Her head snapped over to the stairs. Matt was at the bottom, watching her with a smirk on his face. “Welcome to my home.”

“You’re the witch?” she asked. She couldn’t believe it. Matt was a dick, sure. But a killer? “What the hell is wrong with you?” she snapped. “Do you have any idea what you’re dealing with?”

“You mean power?” He smirked and walked towards her. “Oh, I know.” He picked up a knife and circled the chair. “No one is ever going to make fun of me again. No one is ever going to tell me no again.”

“Matt, you just can’t kill people because they were mean to you.” She watched him as he came back around the chair. 

“Yes, I can. And I have.” He smirked and leaned down to her level. “Once I’ve killed those guys you’re with, I’m going to cast a spell. You’re going to be here with me, as long as I want.” He laughed standing back up. “Try not to bore me.” He reached his hand into her pocket and pulled her cellphone out. Blake glared and tried working her hands down to her back pocket. She had a small pocket knife in the left one. She was just hoping Matt didn’t notice. “Let’s see…Dean.” He pressed call and put the call on speaker, walking back around the chair. Blake kept her hands still. 

“Blake? Where the hell are you?” Dean’s voice came over the phone. He sounded so worried, it made Blake’s heart skip a beat. She opened her mouth to answer him, to warn him, but Matt shoved a rag into her mouth. “Blake? Answer me!”

“Sorry, Blake’s a little tied up at the moment,” Matt said. “She can’t come to the phone right now.” Blake started working towards the knife again. 

“You son of a bitch, what did you do to her?” Dean demanded. 

Matt’s hand covered hers and slipped into her pocket, pulling the knife out. He glared, tossing it across the room, walking around to stand in front of her. “So far?” he asked. Blake looked up at him and he backhanded her hard, cutting her skin on his ring. “Slapped her.” He laughed and leaned back against a work bench. “Other than that, nothing…yet.”

“If you hurt her, I swear to god I’ll kill you.”

“I’d like to see you try.” Matt sighed and looked at Blake. “You have until midnight to find me. For every minute you’re late, I’ll cut off a piece.” He snapped the phone shut, disconnecting the call. He walked over and took her face in his hand and kissed her head. “Be a good girl.” He laughed and walked back up the stairs, shutting off the lights and leaving her in the dark. 

xXx

Dean parked the Impala in front of Matt’s house. It was ten to midnight. He pulled his gun out and cocked it. “Are you sure this is place?” he asked, looking up at the house. 

Sam nodded. “Yeah, that was definitely Matt on the phone.” They climbed out of the car, guns ready as they made their way inside. “This isn’t going to be easy.”

“I know, but we didn’t have time to make the witch killing potion.” Dean walked up to the door and turned the handle. The fact that it was unlocked meant they were walking right into a trap. But they’d figured that. They slowly walked into the house, keeping their guns up. The door slammed shut behind them. “Well, that can’t be good.”

“You’re a master of the obvious.” They turned, putting guns on Matt. He was standing in the doorway to another room with Blake. Her arms were bound behind her back and the rag had been taped over. She had a few cuts and bruises, but she looked mostly okay. “Welcome.”

“Let her go, you son of a bitch,” Dean growled. 

“Ah, ah, ah, manners.” Matt smirked and held a knife up to her throat. “Drop your guns, boys.” Dean and Sam glared at him, but when they hesitated, he pressed the knife just enough to make a thin trail of blood slide down Blake’s neck and she whimpered, trying to pull away from him. They dropped the guns, both keeping their eyes on Blake. She was holding up well considering the circumstances. “There, that’s better.” Matt walked her to a chair and sat her down, standing behind her, effectively creating a shield with her body. 

“Let her go, Matt,” Sam demanded. “She has nothing to do with this.”

“Actually, she does.” He ran a hand through her hair and smirked up at the boys. “See, we were nearly lovers once. She owes me. But first, I’m going to let her watch you die.” He waved his hand with a flick of the wrist and Sam and Dean could both feel the air being choked out of them. Blake screamed behind her gag and tried getting up to go to them. Matt pulled her hair, pulling her back into the chair. “Where do you think you’re going?” he whispered. “Let’s see…which one do you love more?” he asked. 

Blake tried to keep her eyes off Dean, but when he hit his knees, gasping for air she tried to get up again. Matt laughed and walked over to him. “So, the shorter one?” he asked before kicking Dean in the side. Blake pulled her knees up to her chest and slipped her hands around them, wincing as her shoulders protested the harsh position she forced them in. She bit down hard on the rag in her mouth when one of her shoulders popped, dislocating. She watched Matt pull Dean up by the hair and punch him. 

She slowly walked over to Dean’s gun and picked it up. Without any warning she fired a shot. The bullet tore through Matt’s shoulder. He swore and turned, throwing her into the wall and holding her there. “You’re going to pay for that you whore!” He walked towards her, flipping the knife over and over in his hand as he neared. 

Another shot rang out in the room. Sam had managed to get to his gun despite not being able to breathe and put a bullet through Matt’s chest. He looked down at it and touched the blood before collapsing on the floor. Sam and Dean sucked air greedily into their lungs. Blake screamed as she fell from the wall, hitting her dislocated shoulder. 

“Blake.” Dean rushed over to her. He gently pulled the tape away from her skin as Sam picked up Matt’s knife and cut the ropes holding her hands together. Dean cupped her face, smoothing her hair away after she spit out the rag. “Hold on, okay? We’re getting you out of here.” He reached over and picked up his gun and Sam’s. Sam lifted her into his arms, minding her dislocated shoulder. “Do you want to go to a hospital?” Dean asked, leading them out to the car. 

Blake shook her head. “No. Just wanna go home.” She rested her head on Sam’s chest until he carefully slipped her into the back seat. She whimpered when her arm fell and her shoulder screamed in pain. 

“I’m sorry.” Sam kissed her head and climbed into the front seat. Dean was speeding off before Sam even had the door closed. 

“Sam, under the seat,” Dean said, maneuvering through traffic as fast as he could. The fair had let out not long ago, and the roads were backed up. 

Sam reached under his seat and pulled out a bottle of Johnny Blue. He twisted off the cap and turned in the seat, handing it to Blake. “Trust me, you’re going to want this.”

She didn’t doubt it. She took the bottle with her good arm and took three hard pulls from the bottle before taking a breath. The warm liquid slipped through her body and started to relax her nerves. She looked up at them. “Thank you.”

“You’re one of us,” Sam said. 

“We don’t leave anyone behind.” Dean looked at her in the mirror. Blake could tell he’d been worried, more so than Sam. She didn’t know if it was because they’d slept together, or if because she was his responsibility—like he’d said. At this point, she didn’t care. She was glad to be away from Matt and she was glad no more of the people she’d grown up with were going to die because of a vindictive son of a bitch. 

Dean pulled up to the motel and tossed the room key to Sam before opening her door. Blake took another hard pull from the bottle and handed it to him, sliding herself out of the car with another whimper. She was going to be feeling this for a while, she could tell. Dean helped her up the stairs to their room and cleared off the table. “Okay,” he said, guiding her over to it. “Brace yourself on the table, both arms.” She whimpered, just thinking about doing anything with her dislocated shoulder made it throb. “I know, I know.” He smoothed hair away from her face. “It’s going to hurt, but the quicker we get it back in place, the better you’ll feel.”

She nodded her head and took a deep breath, lifting her arms and bracing herself on the table. She shook her head. “Wait.” She turned to Dean and didn’t think twice about it. She lifted his shirt with her good hand and started working on his belt. She pulled it from the loops with a swift tug and folded it up, biting down on it. She winced and breathed hard as she braced her arms again. She looked at him and nodded, giving him the go-ahead to pop her shoulder back into place. 

He grabbed her shoulder lightly. “On three, one…” He pushed, her shoulder snapped into place and she screamed around his belt. “Okay, okay,” Dean said, easing the belt from her teeth and tossing it on the floor. “Worst part’s over.” He smiled and kissed her head. “You did so good.”

Sam walked over with a cold bottle of water and a couple of pills in his hand. “These will help with the pain.” Blake didn’t ask what they were. She popped them in her mouth and sucked down half the bottle of water. 

“Thanks, guys.” She sighed, starting to feel a little better now that she shoulder wasn’t constantly screaming. She walked over to the bed and sat down to take off her boots. “Can we leave in the morning?”

“You don’t want to go to the funeral?” Sam asked. He watched Dean walk over to help her remove her boots, quickly followed by her skinny jeans. He wasn’t sure when it happened, but Blake had become like a sister to him. He knew Dean’s feelings were a little deeper, a little more romantic than that, but it didn’t bother him. She was one of them now. 

Blake shook her head and hissed as dean helped her out of her shirt before helping her into one of his. “I just want to get out of here.”

Dean nodded his head and pulled the blankets back for her. “First thing, we’re out of here,” he promised. Blake nodded and climbed under the blankets. The Vicodin Sam had given her were already working. Her lids were growing heavy as sleep claimed her. She’d sleep for a good eight hours and she was going to need it. As much as Dean wanted to climb into bed and hold her, just to reassure himself she was alright, he was planning on bunking on the couch. She needed sleep more than he needed the reassurance. 

He sighed, turning and looking at Sam. “I don’t ever want to do that again,” he whispered, picking up the Johnny Blue and drowning a good amount into his empty stomach. He was a mess. 

Sam nodded his head, taking the bottle Dean offered. “Me either. That was…fuck Dean, she scared the shit out of me.”

He sighed and rubbed his face. “Me too.” He kicked off his boots. “I’m going to sleep.” Sam nodded, crawling into the other bed. Dean went to the couch. Both boys slept with their guns in their hands, ready to kill anything or anyone who tried to get to Blake.


	8. Hey Soul Sister

Reality   
Chapter 8: Hey Soul Sister

Blake yawned, walking into the kitchen. It’d been a week since they’d been back from Michigan. Her shoulder had healed beautifully thanks to Sam and Dean. They boys were extra sweet to her too. They pretty much had waited on her hand and foot until she’d snapped at them. She didn’t want to be babied. If she was going to be a hunter, she needed to act like one. Sam was pouring himself a cup of coffee and Dean was talking to someone on his phone at the table. She kissed Dean’s cheek and walked over to Sam. “Morning Sam.” She reached up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek and smiled when he handed her a cup of coffee. “What’s on the agenda for today?” she asked. 

Sam leaned on the counter, watching her doctor her coffee. She didn’t know how they could drink it black. She liked it light and sweet. “Vampire not far from here in Kansas City.” He sipped his coffee. “Feeling up for it?”

“Hell yeah.” She smiled and carried her coffee to the fridge, opening it and looking inside. “We need to go shopping,” she muttered. The one downfall of living with the Winchesters was that they were so used to greasy, cheap food, they forgot to keep the pantry and fridge stocked. She made a mental note to go when they got back from the hunt. “Guess we’re grabbing breakfast on the road.” 

She looked at Dean when he hung up the phone. “That was Karl, he’s got a problem with a wendigo and needs some help.”

“What about the vampire?” Blake asked. It wasn’t like the boys to turn down a hunt. 

Dean rubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t want you hunting a wendigo yet…” He looked over at Sam. “You two go hunt the vampire, I’ll head out and help Karl.”

“Are you sure about that?” Sam asked. He knew how nasty wednigos were and he wasn’t thrilled about Dean going after one without him. Karl was a good hunter, but he wasn’t family. 

“I’ll be alright.” He waited until Blake left the room to pack up her bag for the trip to Kansas City. “You be careful with her.”

“Don’t worry, Dean. I won’t let her out of my sight.” Sam finished his coffee and rinsed his mug out in the sink. “You need to be careful with Karl.”

“I’ll be fine.” He looked towards the doorway. He was nervous about sending Blake out with Sam. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his brother, it was just that he was starting to feel things for Blake he hadn’t felt since Lisa. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the whole situation yet and tried to put it out of his mind. He knew Sam would look after her. He already saw her as a little sister. He’d been just as worried as Dean when Matt had kidnapped her. He sighed and walked out of the room to pack up his bag. He was going to have to trust Sam and try not to call her every hour to make sure she was alright. 

xXx

Blake climbed behind the wheel of her Avenger and backed out of the garage. “This is a nice car,” Sam commented, looking around. He was particularly fond of the iPod jack and the fact that Blake was giving him full range over the music. 

“Thanks, his name’s Tony.” She smiled and pet the dash as she sped down the road. At least she drove like Dean. 

“Tony?”

“Tony Stark. He’s my favorite avenger, and since this is a Dodge Avenger, it only makes sense.” She smiled and looked over at him. “C’mon, you guys knew I was a geek. I mean, c’mon, the other night when we watched _Two Towers_ I was practically quoting every line.”

Sam chuckled a little. “Yeah, you’re right, I should have seen that coming.” He leaned back after setting up one of his favorite playlists and looked out the window. “To be honest that was impressive. I mean, Dean and I know movies, but I don’t think we know them that well.”

“Are you kidding me? Dean can practically quote _Die Hard_ and pull out any line for any given situation. And you, you know _Game of Thrones_ backwards, forwards, and sideways.”

“Touche.” 

She smiled and sat back in the seat. “What other kind of geeky things are you into like that?” she asked. It was rare to have Sam all to herself like this. It was actually kind of fun. 

He shrugged. “Dean’s more of the modern-day geek. I know more about books.” 

“Okay, well, what’s your favorite book?” She looked over at him, turning onto the highway that would take them to Kansas City. The whole drive, all four hours of it, they talked. They bonded. It was nice, Sam decided when she pulled up to a small motel and parked the car. He and Dean knew everything about each other, it was hard not to when you spent your whole life with someone. Blake had read a lot of the same books he had, so they could discuss them, and he knew for a fact that she could keep up with Dean when it came to movie quotes. She really fit in well with them. 

After getting a room, they walked in and dumped their things on the bed. “What’s first?” she asked, unzipping her bag. 

“We should go see the body, make sure this really is a vampire.” Sam pulled out his suit and started to change in the middle of the room. Blake grabbed her own clothes and followed his head. They figured he’d seen her in her underwear before, so what did it matter now? And Sam didn’t have romantic feelings for her.

Blake double checked to make sure her I.D. was in the inside pocket of the jacket she’d sewn in herself and slid her gun into the other side. She stood in front of the bathroom mirror, adjusting for the weight of it and slipped into her heels. “Let’s hope we don’t have to run,” she said walking out. 

Sam chuckled, looking her over. “You could always ditch the shoes.” 

“And cut up my feet? I don’t think so. You’ll just have to carry me.” She smiled and walked to the door, slipping the motel key in her pocket. Sam grabbed his laptop and followed her out to the car. He put his bag in the back and directed her to the morgue where they’d find their dead body. They walked inside and badged their way in to see the body. Sam only had to look at it for a second to know it was a vampire attack. But he stood back, letting Blake examine the neck wound. He wanted to give her a chance to study it. One day she’d be able to recognize it on the spot like him and Dean. 

She frowned at the woman lying on the table. She wasn’t much older than Blake. “It’s sad,” she whispered. “When I thought this was all just a show…I never really paid attention to the victims…but this…this is rough.”

Sam led her out of the room. “It gets easier over time. Sure, it’s still a little hard when you see the dead bodies,” he told her. “But you also learn how many people you’re saving. It balances out in the end.”

She nodded her head and climbed back into the car. “What now?” she asked. 

Sam sighed and rubbed his head. “Back to the motel, change, gear up. We’ll go to the bar she was killed outside of. Chances are that’s the vampire’s hunting grounds. We should be able to get him there.” Blake nodded and drove back to the motel. It was going to be a long night. 

xXx

Blake walked up to the counter and ordered a drink. She looked around the bar, pretending to check out the other customers. She was looking for Sam. They’d agreed, that the vampire would be most likely to approach her if Sam wasn’t right next to her. Sam hadn’t like the plan of using her as bait, but she’d won him over in the end. He was sitting in a booth not too far away. He already had a couple of the females checking him out. She smirked and turned to thank the bartender when he set her drink down. 

She took a sip and looked around the room, this time, looking for her prey. She had no idea how she’d be able to tell if someone was a vampire or not until she saw fangs. She sighed and pretended to look bored, pulling out her phone and scrolling through text messages from Dean. He was worried about her being on a hunt without him. She could tell. She smiled a little at a dumb joke he’d made earlier about Dracula. She didn’t know what she was feeling for him. Sam felt like a brother to her, and that was…it was perfect. She’d always wanted a brother and Sam fit the bill perfectly. Dean was a different story. There was something more there, at least for her. She didn’t know how he felt about it though. As far as she knew he was counting down the days until he didn’t have to worry about her anymore and she moved out of the bunker. That day would be hell. 

“Now what is a beautiful woman like you doing drinking all alone?” Blake turned and looked at the man who’d sat beside her. He was gorgeous and had a dazzling smile, one that showed off the fangs. She could see the puncture holes, just slightly, where they would come down. She gave Sam the signal they’d agreed upon, pushing her glass away. 

“Being stood up, apparently. My boyfriend was supposed to meet me here.” She smiled sweetly, leaning a little closer. “You’d never do that to a girl, would you?”

He chuckled and took her hand off the bar, lightly stroking his thumb over the back of her hand. “Especially not to one as beautiful as you.”

She forced a giggle out and watched him bend down to kiss her hand. “Well, how about you and me get out of here?” she asked. The sooner they got out of the bar and alone, the sooner they could kill him and go back home. 

“I would love to.” He stood up and offered her hand, helping her off the stool. She let him lead her out of the bar. She saw Sam follow out of the corner of her eye. “Where are we headed to, gorgeous?”

Blake pulled him into the alley. “How about right here?” She smiled and backed up into the wall, unzipping her jacket, showing off her cleavage she’d put on show just for tonight. She just needed to keep his attention on her while Sam creeped up behind them. 

“You’re a naughty one.” The vampire inched towards her, reaching out and taking her hips in his hands. 

“You have no idea.” Her eyes flicked to Sam just as he swung the blade, decapitating the vampire. She watched his head roll towards a gutter. She smiled looking up at Sam. “Bet it’s never been that easy before.”

Sam smirked and looked at her. “You’ve got that right.” He put his arm around her shoulders as they headed back to the car. “Too bad Dean missed it. We wouldn’t of had to decapitate the vampire, he would have beat him bloody.” 

Blake laughed. “I have a feeling he’d try to ground me.” She zipped her jacket back up. 

“I ought to ground you.” They climbed in the car and he looked at her. “Where did you get that shirt?”

She shrugged. “It’s my free drink shirt. When I used to go to the bar I’d wear it. I’ve never paid for a drink my whole adult life.” She smirked, heading back to the motel. 

Sam shook his head. “You’d be smart to hide that shirt from Dean.”

“I’ve managed this far, and he went through my wardrobe.” She pulled up to the motel. “We don’t have to drive back tonight, do we?” she asked. 

“No, we can stay the night.” Sam climbed out of the car and followed her into the motel. He watched her go to the bathroom to shower and picked up his phone, calling Dean. 

“How’d it go?” Dean asked. 

“Taken care of, she’s a natural.” He sat on the bed and took his shirt off, balancing the phone between his ear and shoulder. “The vamp didn’t even see it coming.”

“She beheaded it?” 

“No, she distracted it.” He heard Dean growl over the phone. “Calm down, Dean. I was right there the whole time. Nothing would have happened to her.”

“We’ll talk about it when I get back.” He sighed. “I should be home by ten or so.”

“That’s about what time we should be rolling in. She wants to stay here tonight.”

“Where is she?”

“In the shower.” He looked towards the door. “Want me to have her call you?”

“No,” Dean said. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow. Night.” 

Sam sighed and hung up the phone, plugging it in before crawling into bed. He stretched out and stared up at the ceiling until he heard Blake come out of the bathroom and crawl into her own bed. “Night Sam.”

“Night Blake.”


	9. Coming in Hot

Reality  
Chapter 9: Coming in Hot

Blake yawned, stretching as she rolled over in bed. It’d been a long week. After the vampire hunt she and Sam had found another case in the next state over. Dean had met them. He’d torn into them too. He hadn’t been happy with the fact that she’d gone up as bait, or that Sam had let it happen. They’d managed to calm him down, but he was still nervous around her when it came to hunts. He would let her go to the store alone, but hunts were different. 

She got up and walked to her dresser, pulling out clothes. She was planning on running to the store. All they had in the fridge were a couple packages of hotdogs, beer, and a jar of what she thought might have been mustard at one point. She needed some decent food to eat. And, since she knew Dean was still upset about the whole vampire thing, she was planning on getting the supplies she needed to make him a homemade pie, not that store bought crap he ate all the time. 

Blake walked into the kitchen and set her bag on the counter. “Where are you going?” Dean asked, watching her as she grabbed a to-go mug from the cupboard. 

“Supply run. I’m not living off of hotdogs and beer.” She filled her cup with coffee and doctored it, screwing the lid on tight. “Any requests?” she asked. 

“Pie!” Blake rolled her eyes and looked at Sam. 

“Salad would be good.”

She nodded her head and smiled. “No problem. I’ll be back later.” She picked up her bag and walked out of the kitchen, heading to the garage. She sipped her coffee, climbing the stairs. She was actually surprised the boys hadn’t put up a fight about her going off alone. They must be trusting her more and more to handle herself. Blake climbed into her car and dropped her bag on the passenger’s seat, turning the engine. She carefully backed out and headed into town, turning on the radio. 

Her life had really changed in the past few weeks. She learned that everything she thought was just make believe, just a television show was real. She’d met Sam and Dean Winchester and they’d taken her under their ring, teaching her everything they knew about hunting. She’d help stop ghosts, a witch, werewolves, and a vampire. A far as she was concerned, this was a better life than what she’d had before Castiel and Crowley had appeared in her car. 

She glanced in the rearview mirror and frowned. There was a white Mustang that had been following her for a while now. She detoured from the normal route, turning down a side street. The car followed her. “Son of a bitch,” she muttered. She sped up, cruising around another corner and turning down a different road. She’d been hoping it wasn’t what she thought. That whoever was driving the car just happened to be going the same way she was. After her fourth right turn, she knew she was being followed. 

Blake pulled back onto the main road and sped up, quickly surpassing the speed limit. The Mustang kept up, quickly getting right on her tail. She reached into her pocket, planning on calling Dean. He should know what’s going on and she wasn’t entirely sure what to do. She swore when a car pulled out in front of her, she quickly swerved around her, her phone flying across the seat to floor. “Damn it.” She barely kept the car from flipping over and drifted around a corner, speeding off. She glanced in the mirror. She’d gained some distance, but not enough. 

She was getting closer to the busier part of town and that meant she was more likely to wreck. God only knew if she’d come out of it alive. She didn’t know who was following her, but she sped towards a light getting ready to change from yellow to red. She was hoping, with a little bit of luck, that she’d be able to get through the light and whoever was following her would get stuck at it. She pressed just a little harder on the pedal. The light changed too quickly and the other drivers were in too big of a hurry. A big Ford truck slammed into the driver’s side with a nasty crunching sound of the metal bending. The car rolled, glass and coffee going everywhere. 

xXx

Back in the bunker Sam and Dean were looking through files, digging around on internet news sites, and listening to the police scanner for a new job. Sam was hoping it would keep Dean distracted. He wasn’t happy about Blake going out by herself, but he knew that he had to let her go. She’d been able to go to the store alone before she’d offered herself up as vampire bait. He couldn’t flip and switch and just tell her she couldn’t go anymore. 

He wasn’t happy about the situation at all. Sam should have known better. The fact that she hadn’t been hurt was just dumb luck. He switched to another news site when the one he’d been reading had come up empty. That’s when something on the police scanner caught his attention. Both he and Sam stopped what they were doing to listen. 

“Black 2008 Dodge Avenger. One passenger, female, early twenties, black hair, gray eyes, approximately one hundred twenty pounds. Multipole contusions, possible concussion, unresponsive. Being transferred to Smith County Memorial Hospital.”

Dean was out of his chair and bolting up the steps to the garage in the blink of an eye. Sam right behind him. He didn’t know how Blake had managed to wreck her car, but for her sake she better not be dead. He jumped into the Impala and started the engine, pulling out before Sam had his door fully closed. Panic and adrenaline were coursing through him. It was a twenty minute drive to the hospital, but he was planning on cutting that time in half. 

A million different scenarios were running through his head. Blake was a good driver. She wouldn’t have just crashed her car. She loved it almost as much as he loved the Impala. Something had gone wrong. He knew Sam kept looking at him, but neither one of them spoke. Sam was just as worried as he was. 

Dean slammed on the breaks, pulling into a parking spot at the hospital and climbed out, slamming the door and running inside. Sam right behind him. He ran into the counter at the reception desk. “You guys brought in a girl, she was in a car accident,” he panted out. 

The woman behind the desk nodded. “Are you family?” she asked. 

“I’m her brother,” Sam said when Dean started to open his mouth to tell her off. “This is her boyfriend.” 

The woman nodded. “She’s not out of surgery yet,” she said looking at her computer. 

“Surgery?” Dean snapped. “What the hell does she need surgery for?”

“Sir, I don’t know.” She looked at him and handed him a clipboard. “Fill this out, she’s going to need insurance information. You can wait outside of the operating room. Second floor, room two-twenty-six.” 

Dean passed the clipboard with papers off to Sam and made his way to the elevator. He leaned against the wall, pressing the button for the second floor. He tapped his foot waiting for the damn thing to open the doors again. Sam was busy filling out paper work, making sure to use a fake name. When the doors opened again they bolted out and down the hall to the operating room. Another nurse stopped them. “The girl that was in a car accident,” Dean snapped again. “We’re here for her.”

She nodded and disappeared into the operating room to get a doctor. Sam sat in one of the chairs to finish filling out the paperwork. Dean couldn’t sit still. He paced the rows of chairs, down and back again, down and back again, over and over. Finally the doors opened again and this time a man came out, wiping his hands on a towel. “You’re here for the car accident victim?” he asked. 

“Is she alright? Why did she need surgery?” Dean asked. 

“Calm down, she’s alright. It wasn’t really surgery. She had some glass that needed to be removed, a shoulder that needed to be put back into the socket, and some cuts that needed stitches.” Dean breathed a sigh of relief knowing that it wasn’t anything major. “She’s being moved to a room right now. She’s technically free to leave whenever she likes, but I’d like to see her stay overnight for observation.”

Like hell that was happening. Sam handed the doctor the paper work and Dean got her room number. They climbed back into the elevator and waiting while it took them up yet another floor. Dean was hoping she’d be able to tell them what happened. He walked into the room and stopped dead in his tracks, putting his hands up when she jumped and pulled a gun on them. “Easy princess, it’s just us.” 

She sighed and slipped the gun back under the blankets. “Sorry.”

“How did you get a gun?” Sam asked, walking in behind Dean and closing the door. 

“I had it in my bag. I pitched a fit until they brought it to me.” She leaned back against the pillows. Dean looked her over. She had cuts all over her face and arms. The arm she’d dislocated when they’d gone up against Matt was in a sling. She looked breakable in the hospital bed. She had some bruises around her face and he could see the nasty one she was already developing from the seatbelt. He shook his head when she pulled out the IV and flicked it over the side of the bed. She looked up at him and winced. “Do I look that bad?” she asked, pulling the sling off and tossing it to the foot of the bed. 

He shook his head, pulling a chair over. “Not terrible.” He sighed and rubbed his face. “What the hell happened?” he asked. 

Blake sighed and ran a hand through her hair, frowning at the blood and coffee she could feel in it. “Gross…” She looked back at Dean. “I was being followed. I noticed it about five miles out of town. It was white Mustang, an old one, probably an eighty something. I didn’t get a good look at the driver.”

“They rammed you of the road?” Sam asked. 

She shook her head. “No. I was running, trying to lose them. I went through a red light just a little bit late and got smashed by a pickup truck.” She frowned a bit. “Probably not the best idea, they told me my car is toast.”

“You’re lucky you’re not toast,” Dean snapped. “Why didn’t you call us?”

“I tried. I had to swerve to avoid hitting a minivan and my phone went flying onto the floor of the passenger’s seat. I couldn’t get to it.” She reached over and took Dean’s hand in hers. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He sighed and bent his head, kissing her skin. “It’s okay. You’re okay, that’s all that matters.”

“Can we go home?” she asked. 

“Yeah.” Dean looked at Sam. “Go get her clothes out of the trunk.” He tossed Sam the keys.

“I’m so glad we keep a spare set in the car.” Blake leaned back against the bed when Sam left the room and looked at Dean. “Who would have been following me?”

He shook his head. “I have no idea. But we’ll find out.” And when he did, whoever it was, was getting a bullet to the heart after he beat their face until their skull caved in. It worried him that someone was tailing Blake. If she thought she was going anywhere alone again, ever, she had another thing coming. He wasn’t letting her out of his sight.


	10. Normalcy

Reality  
Chapter 10: Normalcy 

Blake looked up from her newspaper when Dean walked into the kitchen. She hadn't been able to sleep, so she was doing the next best thing, looking for a case to work. She was hoping that after the car wreck a case would help them get back to a sense of normalcy. Dean had been tiptoeing around her lately. She was half afraid that he wouldn’t let her go on a hunt at all and demand she stay at the bunker to help with the research side of things. She was hoping that wasn't going to be the case. He poured a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter, looking at her. She had to look away. All she could think about was getting him out of those damn clothes and into a bed. They'd only slept together the once, and Dean had kept the touching down to a bare minimum afterwards, but Blake couldn't help it. She wanted Dean. The only problem was that she was sure there were other feelings that went along with it. She just didn’t want to think about it. 

"I think I found a case," she said, hoping to distract her hormones with work. 

Dean walked around the counter and sat at the table with her. "What kind of a case?" he asked. 

She set the paper down, pointing to the article. "Muldrow, Oklahoma. Monday one Mr. Donald Keith was found dead inside of his home, burned to a crisp. The house wasn't damaged; there was no sign of a struggle, no sign of any foul play. The authorities are saying he spontaneously combusted in his living room." She sat back, taking a drink of her own coffee. "It may be nothing, but it caught my eye."

He nodded his head, reading over the article himself. "It's worth checking out at least." He sighed and tossed the paper down. "It's at least a seven hour drive to Muldrow. Why don't you go pack up, I'll get Sammy and we can get breakfast on the road."

Blake nodded and finished her coffee. She rinsed out the mug as Dean walked out of the kitchen. At least he was letting her go with them, so that was something. She headed to her room, passing Dean coming out of Sam's. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, watching him disappear into his room. For all she knew he'd tell her she wasn't allowed to leave the motel room. Although, to be fair, the last time he'd told her that she'd been grabbed by a ghost. 

She grabbed her bag out of the closet and started putting clothes in it. Blake didn’t know what she was going to do when it was time for her to leave the nest. She could feel it was getting close. She'd already learned a lot from the boys. She had a feeling Dean wanted to find out who'd been following her before he turned her out. She was going to miss them that was for sure. 

After she’d packed up everything she thought she would need, Blake walked out of her room, closing the door behind her. Sam was coming out of his room. He put his arm around her shoulders, bracing his weight on her. “Oof, Sam, c’mon you’re not the little one.”

He chuckled and took his weight back, keeping his arm around her shoulders. “Dean can carry me,” he pointed out. 

“Yeah, when he’s got some sick adrenaline running through him.” She leaned her head on his chest as they walked into the library. Dean was already in there, double checking his bag. “Ready to go sunshine?” 

He looked over at them and shook his head. “We’re going on a hunt, not a vacation.”

“Aren’t they the same thing for us?” Blake smiled sweetly and headed up the stairs. Dean rolled his eyes and followed with Sam. They climbed into the car and Dean carefully backed out of the garage. Blake pulled her legs under her in the backseat, sitting in the middle, and leaned forward. “So, what do you think it is?” she asked. 

“Well, the last time we had a case with spontaneous combustion we were dealing with Nazi necromancers. Unless our victim was Jewish, my money is on a witch.” Dean looked back at her as he drove. 

She nodded her head. “That’s what I was thinking. But, it could be a demon…or you know, an angel was possessing someone and went up in holy fire.” 

“Why would you even go there?”

Blake shrugged. “I told you, I watch the show. It wouldn’t be the first time an angel burned in holy fire.” She sat back a little. “But you’re probably right, it’s just a witch. But that begs the question, why did they light this guy on fire?”

“Hard telling. Witches are crazy.” Dean pulled up to a gas station to fuel up. Blake climbed out and headed inside. He looked at Sam. “Go with her.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “It’s just a gas station, Dean.” But he climbed out of the car and followed Blake inside. 

She looked at Sam as she grabbed a basket and started filling it with food and drinks. “He’s never going to let me go anywhere alone again, is he?” she asked. She made sure to get Dean some pie. 

Sam sighed, grabbing some protein bars. “Probably not.” 

Blake shook her head and looked through the aisles. It was sweet that Dean cared so much. It really was. But if he couldn’t trust her to go into a gas station alone, they were going to have problems. Once her basket was full and she figured they had enough to hold them over on the seven hour drive she walked over to the counter and set the basket down. Sam pulled out his card to pay. She leaned on the counter and looked around at the impulse buys lined up attractively alongside the register. The newspaper caught her eye. “This too,” she said, handing it to the cashier. 

He handed it back to her instead of putting it in the bag. She let Sam grab the bag as she walked out of the store, reading over the article that had caught her eye. “What is it?” Sam asked. 

“There was another killing.” She looked up at him. “A woman spontaneously combusted in her apartment at three in the morning. Nothing but the bed she was sleeping in was damaged.” 

Sam frowned and read the article over her shoulder. “We need to hurry.” 

They walked back to the car. Sam climbed in. Blake walked to the back and leaned against the trunk beside Dean. “There was another murder last night,” she said, handing him the paper. “Elizabeth Rogers.” She took the pump out when it clicked, signaling Baby was full and put it back. 

Dean sighed and tossed the paper into the backseat through the window. “Let’s go.”

xXx

Blake rolled her head on her neck. Sam was back at the motel, digging up everything he could on their two victims. She and Dean were outside of the first crime scene, dressed in their FBI attire. Unfortunately, Blake was wearing her skirt. Her pants had torn the last time they’d had to wear them and she hadn’t had a chance to replace them. She climbed out of the car and headed inside, Dean right behind her. “So, we’re looking for hex bags, EMF, or sulfur, right?”

He nodded. “Yeah, those are the three big ones. Sam said neither one of them had any ties to the necromancers that he could find.” Dean bent to pick the lock and sighed. “I hate doing this.” 

She crossed her arms and smiled. “Sorry, the skirt means I can’t bend down.” 

Dean glanced at her legs and bit his lip, trying to focus on picking the lock to Donald’s house. He swore she was trying to kill him. He’d seen her come out of the bathroom in the skirt. He’d nearly had a heart attack. Her legs were smooth and he could see the toned muscles flex as she walked to the bed and sat to put her heels on. Images of a naughty secretary or librarian popped into his head. All he’d wanted to do was bend her over the damn table and have his way with her. 

As soon as this case was over, he was taking her shopping. She was getting more damn pants. 

He finally got the lock picked and stood back up, slipping the kit back into his pocket. Blake walked in a head of him and he had to make it a point not to watch the way her perfect ass moved in the tight skirt. She flicked on the EMF reader and made her way through the house. Dean figured she could handle it, and he was in the house with her. He was going to look for hex bags. Anything to stay away from her and that damn skirt. 

He started flipping cushions and moving furniture in the living room. They worked their way around the house. Dean sighed when they met back in the living room. “That’s it, no sulfur, no EMF, no hex bags.” He ran a hand through his hair and looked around. Maybe they’d missed something. 

Blake sighed. “I want to take a lap around the house, I’ll meet you back at the car.” She walked outside. Dean rubbed his face. So they weren’t dealing with a witch, a demon, or a ghost. That much they knew. And nothing was pointing towards necromancers. So what the hell were they up against? He sighed and walked out to the car, shrugging out of his suit jacket and tossing it into the back seat. Hopefully Sam had better luck at the motel. 

He leaned against the car and looked back at the house, waiting for Blake. He started to get antsy when she didn’t come back. “Son of a bitch.” He took off running towards the back of the house. “Blake?” he called out. 

“Over here.” He looked over. She was climbing out of some bushes on the back of the property. “I think I found something.” She was holding a gas can and a book of matches. “I don’t think we’re dealing with anything supernatural, just some messed up person.”

Dean took the gas can from her and looked it over. No sulfur. He sighed and tossed it back behind the bushes. “And the cops over looked this?” He shook his head. “That’s why we get paid the big bucks. Let’s go back to the motel, see what Sam found.”

Blake nodded and followed Dean back to the car. “We should swing by Elizabeth’s and look around.”

He sighed. “I guess.” He turned around and headed to the second victim’s house. “What I can’t figure out is why a human is going around killing people.”

“They’re call psychopaths for a reason.” She ran a hand through her hair, he caught a scent of her mango shampoo and crossed one leg over the other. Dean noticed the way her skirt rode up. Son of a bitch, she was trying to kill him. He couldn’t take it anymore. 

He pulled off the road and parked behind some trees. “Okay, you’ve got to stop.”

“Stop what?” she asked, looking at him. “What’s your problem?”

“You with the hair and the skirt and the heels!” He shut the car off and turned to look at her. “You are killing me.”

Blake smirked and turned in the seat, looking at him. He watched her reach up and unbutton the top of her oxford. He bit his lip, watching her fingers work. “I’m killing you?” she asked, slowly unbuttoning her shirt all the way. “Why don’t you do something about it?” She pushed her shirt and blazer off her shoulders. 

Dean grabbed the back of her head, fisting his hand in her hair and pulled her towards him, crashing his lips against hers. Blake moaned, her fingers quickly working at the buttons of his shirt. He wrapped a hand around her ass and pulled her closer, lying her back on the front seat. “You’re in so much trouble,” he growled against her lips. He didn’t bother trying to get her skirt off. He pushed it until it bunched around her waist and swore. 

“Something wrong?” she asked, running her hands through her hair, lying them above her head. 

Dean didn’t know what she’d had under the skirt. He’d seen the nylons on her legs, but he had no idea the only thing holding them up was a black, lacy garter belt. He bit his lip, closing his eyes. She wasn’t even wearing panties. “So. Much. Trouble.” He backed up into a very uncomfortable position, pulling her legs over his shoulders. 

Blake arched on the leather of the seat when Dean blew a puff of air over her sensitive folds. If she’d known it’d be that easy to get Dean to fuck her again, she would have burned all of her pants. She bit her lip, her back arching when his lips closed around her clit. He moaned against her, the vibrations rocking straight to her core. Blake reached down, gripping his hair as he sucked. 

He wrapped his arms around her hips as he feasted on her. She was the best damn thing he’d ever swallowed. She tasted like mangos and cream. He could have stayed there for hours. But his cock throbbed painfully in the suit pants, reminding him that he needed to remedy that problem. Dean gave her clit one last suck before he leaned up, all but ripping the button and zipper off his pants in his haste to get them out of the way. 

Blake leaned up on her elbows, bracing her back against the passenger’s seat as she watched him. She licked her lips one he’d freed his cock. “You want something?” he asked. He reached down, wrapping his hand around his dick and stroked it. 

She whined and arched her back, sliding her legs off his shoulders and around his hips. “I want you to fuck me with your cock,” she whispered. 

Dean grabbed her and pulled her on top of him as he sat in the middle of the front seat. “I want you to ride my cock.” She bit her lip, her head dipping back as she lowered herself onto him. Sheathing him in her tight, wet cunt. Dean gripped her hips with bruising force as she rocked and shimmied against him. She was perfect. Blake gripped his shoulders as she moved, rocking her hips faster. She was desperate for release, she needed to feel it, feel him. “That’s it baby,” he ground out. “You like the way my dick feels inside your wet little pussy?”

She dropped her head onto his shoulder, her nails biting into his skin as she moaned, her pussy contracting around his dick almost violently. If he was going to start talking, she wasn’t going to last. “Fuck, Dean.”

“I know what you need.” He cupped her ass in his hands, guiding her faster as she bounced and rocked. He buried his head into her neck, kissing and biting the skin. “You need me to fuck you into oblivion.” He smacked her ass, just to see what she would do. Blake couldn’t handle it. Everything went white and hot as her body contracted and coiled, her orgasm racing through her with the intensity of a lightning storm. She fell against his chest, panting, gasping for air. 

“Not done,” she managed. Dean watched her climb off and sink onto the floor, her small body able to fit into the compact space. She wrapped her hand around the base of his cock before slowly lowering her lips, engulfing him down the back of her throat. Blake moaned around him as she swallowed him to the base. She took his hands, guiding them to her hair, letting her body go lax on top of him. 

“Oh fuck,” Dean whispered, getting the message. He didn’t know how he’d ended up with what was probably the perfect woman, but he was damn sure happy he did. He fisted his hands in her hair and pulled her off his cock halfway before pushing her back down. Blake moaned, her stormy grey eyes looking up at him as she let him set the pace. She swallowed around his length and he nearly went cross-eyed. 

Dean dropped his head back against the seat as he bobbed her head up and down, faster and faster, his hips jerking up to meet his thrusts. She used her tongue on the upstroke, running it along the thick vein. She swallowed around him when he was buried deep in her throat. She moaned and hummed the whole time. “You look so damn sexy like that,” he told her. “So fucking hot with your lips wrapped around my dick.”

Blake moaned, her eyes rolling in the back of her head. “You like it when I talk dirty don’t you? Yeah, I know you do. You’re going to like it even more when I make you swallow my come aren’t you?” She gripped his thighs as he sped up. His orgasm was close. “Gonna swallow all of it like a good girl.”

She moaned and tried to nod her head. She would never hear the words ‘good girl’ the same way again. She was going crazy. Dean groaned above her. “Get ready baby,” he warned before he started to come. She swallowed around him, swallowing it down before he released her hair. Blake gently eased off of him and climbed into the seat, resting her head against his shoulder as he panted. He turned and kissed her head. “We can never tell Sam that happened.”

She laughed and looked at the seat the older Winchester always sat in. “He’d let me ride in the front.” She smirked and looked up at him. “Just think of all the dirty, nasty things I could do to you on those long road trips.”

“Fuck it, I’m telling Sam.” 

xXx

Dean walked into the bar and looked around for Sam. They’d called him after they’d checked out the second victim’s house and told him to meet them there. It was better than going back to the motel only to leave again for food. The second house had been a bust. No hex bags. No sulfur. No EMF. They hadn’t even found a gas can or matches. Whoever was killing people in this town, Dean was pretty damn sure they weren’t some supernatural creature. 

“I’m going to go freshen up,” Blake said, nodding back towards the restrooms. “Order me a beer, a burger and extra fries.” She winked and headed off. 

Dean smirked and headed over to the booth Sam was in, already halfway through a beer. “Hey, Sammy.” Dean sat down and waved the waitress over. “Yeah, two beers, two double bacon burgers, and three fries.” He thanked her and looked at his brother, the biggest shit eating grin on his face. 

“You’re happy,” Sam stated. He narrowed his eyes and glanced back towards the bathrooms. “You didn’t.”

“All over the front seat.” Dean smirked and sat back, his arms laying over the seatback. “And it was spectacular.” 

Sam groaned. “C’mon Dean, I sit there!” 

“So sit in the back.” Dean smirked, looking over towards the lady’s room when Blake came back out. She smiled and started towards them. He scooted over in the seat so she could sit beside him. 

“Hey, Sam. Did you miss us?” she asked. 

He glared at them. “I hate both of you.” He finished his beer and signaled the waitress to bring him another. “Seriously, can’t you two keep it in your pants?”

“Nope.” Blake sat back when the waitress brought their food. “So, we didn’t find anything. As far as we can tell, it’s just some crazy person.” She reached across Dean and grabbed the ketchup, squeezing some out on her plate. “What did you find?”

“Nothing.” Sam took a drink of his beer and shook his head. “I’m thinking this isn’t one of our kind of cases.” 

Dean shrugged. “So we’re on vacation. I say let’s have some fun.” 

They ate, drank, and Blake managed to hustle a game of pool all by herself. Dean watched from the sidelines, admiring the way her ass looked in the skirt, imagining all of the things he still wanted to do to her in that skirt. Too bad Sam wasn’t going to leave them alone for the rest of the night. Maybe they’d sneak out, go back to the Impala. It was almost closing time by the time they were ready to leave. Blake yawned, leaning against Dean while they watched Sam sink the last shot of his pool game. “I’m gonna head to the car,” she said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the keys. 

“I’ll be there in a few.” Dean kissed her head and watched her walk out of the bar. He sighed. He was happy, he realized. He smiled a little and looked at Sam. “Ready to go?” 

“Yeah, just gotta take a leak.” 

Dean nodded and headed outside. Maybe he could get a couple minutes alone with Blake before Sam came and they headed back to the motel. He walked outside, but he didn’t see Blake beside the Impala or inside of it. “Blake?” he called out. He turned, looking around. He saw the keys on the ground beside the car. He frowned, crouching down to pick them up. That’s when he saw the drag marks made from a pair of heels, leading to tire tracks. “Son of a bitch.” He started looking around. There was a security camera on the light poll. He ran back inside. 

“What’s going on?” Sam asked. 

“Someone took Blake.” Dean walked over to the counter and pulled out his FBI badge and showed the bartender. “I need to look at your security tapes. Right now.” He didn’t ask questions. He wasn’t happy about it. Dean knew he just wanted to go home, but this was important. He followed him to the back room and sat at the computer, watching Sam work his magic. Sam reversed the feed, going back to where Blake had walked out of the bar. They saw the truck stop. It was a four door Chevy, and wouldn’t you know? They even got the plates. Dean growled, watching a man jump out and grab her. 

He felt a small swell of pride when he watched her get a couple good shots in. Then he slammed her head on the hood of the Impala, knocking her out. He clenched his fists, watching the dead man walking cop a feel as he lifted her and threw her into the back seat of the truck. 

Sam wrote down the plate numbers and got up. “Let’s go. I can get this on the way.” Dean nodded and followed Sam out to the car. Events from earlier were forgotten as they climbed into the car. Sam called the police station and fed them the bogus information to get the information from the plates. As soon as Dean had an address he sped out of the parking lot, kicking up gravel on spinning tires. 

“Give me some information here, Sam. What are we dealing with?” he asked. 

“As far as I can tell it’s just the one guy, lives alone out in the middle of nowhere. No record to speak of.”

Dean nodded and checked the speedometer, pushing the pedal just a little harder. He wanted to get there before something really bad happened. She hadn’t been gone that long. He just hoped they weren’t too late. 

xXx

Blake shook her head, thrashing and fighting against the guy who was dragging her into a house. She’d woken up in the truck, arms and ankles bound with duct tape. She’d been trying desperately to get to the pocket knife she had clipped on the inside of the back of her skirt. If she could get to it she could get away. She grunted when the man threw her on the ground inside of a cabin that smelt like mold and dust. He obviously didn’t know what dusting was. 

She rotated her body, pulling herself up against the wall and pulled her legs under her as she watched him walk around the room. He was looking for something. She didn’t want to wait and see what it was. She started working towards her pocket knife again. When she wrapped her fingers around it she pulled it out, opening it and started working on the tape around her legs first. “Who are you?” she asked. 

“Larry.” He was practically ignoring her. “Why are you looking into the deaths?”

“It’s my job.” She tried to keep herself calm when she felt the knife tear through the tape around her ankles. She carefully flipped the knife around and started in on her hands. “Are you the one who’s been killing them?” 

“Not killing them,” he told her, unraveling a coil of rope. “Purifying them.” 

“For what?”

“They were dirty. Only fire purifies. They needed to be clean.” His hands were shaking as he grabbed a can of gasoline. “You’re dirty too. I saw you with that man.”

“How does that make me dirty?” she asked. She’d cut through the tape and was starting to relax a little. She could get out of this. She just needed to wait for the right time. 

Larry set the gas down and turned, looking at her. “You were in public.”

“We were hidden.”

“You’re not married.”

“Times change.” She started to brace herself to jump up. He didn’t have the gas, or a weapon in his hands. She could knock him flat on his ass and make a run for it. 

He shook his head. “You need to be purified. Only fire does that.”

She shook her head. “Man, someone really did a number on you.” She jumped up and punched him, knocking him back into the table he’d been lying supplies on. She swore when she tried to take a step and her skirt clung to her, preventing large steps. She flipped the knife around in her hand and cut the side of the skirt right down the thigh. Larry grabbed her by the hair and tried to slam her head against the wall. 

Blake bent in half, letting him run straight into the wall, hitting his head. He released her hair. Blake planted a foot on the ground, kicking him with the other. Larry crumpled on the floor. She grabbed her knife off the floor and made a break for the door, just as it splintered. Dean had kicked it in. He and Sam came in, guns drawn. “Blake.”

She ran over to them as Larry managed to pull himself off the floor. “You will all burn in fire!” he bellowed. 

“Been there, done that.” Dean put a bullet in his chest. He put an arm around Blake and led her out of the house. “Are you okay?” he asked, leading her to the car. 

“My skirt is ruined, but I’m okay.” She looked up at him. “How did you know where I was?” she asked. 

“We checked the security tapes and got the plates off his truck.” Sam opened the front door and let her climb in. She scooted into the middle when she realized he was climbing in behind her. She’d never felt safer than sitting on the front seat between her boys. 

“Looks like you didn’t need us though,” Dean said, driving back to the motel. “You handled yourself pretty well back there.”

“Thanks.” She rested her head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. She reached out and took Sam’s hand. She was out before they even reached the motel.


	11. Can't Fight This Feeling

Reality  
Chapter 11: Can’t Fight this Feeling

Dean pulled up to their new home for the next few days and parked in front of the door. “Why don’t you two get the room and get started. I’m going to go grab some grub.” He looked between Blake and Sam. They shrugged and got out. He pulled away, wiping his hand over his mouth. It’d been about two weeks since he and Blake had fucked in the front seat and she’d been kidnapped by a crazy person with a fire fetish. He’d noticed that Blake wasn’t just a crush to him, not just a hot huntress. 

He was falling in love with her. And that was dangerous. Especially in this line of work. It was never a good idea to fall in love. He didn’t know what to do about it either. He couldn’t kick her out. It would break her heart first of all, and Sam would never let him. Sam loved her too, just in a different, harmless way. Blake was the little sister Sam had always wanted. And if he was being honest with himself, Dean didn’t want her to leave. 

He drove to the nearest diner and walked inside, ordering food. They were on a hunt. From the descriptions of the victims in the police reports, they were dealing with a wraith. That was bad enough. Add in his overprotectiveness, the realization that he was in love with Blake, and the fact that he had no idea what to do about it and they were in trouble. The real kicker was the Blake was picking up on it. Not that he was in love with her, at least he hoped not. But he had been acting differently. 

Dean had been trying to keep his distance. Trying to keep their alone time to a minimum. The fact that he was doing this just after fucking her brains out on the front seat of the car didn’t help. He knew she was probably a little hurt and a whole lot of pissed off at him. He didn’t know what else to do. It wasn’t right to tell her how he felt. Not when every other person he’d loved had died or worse. 

He leaned against the counter, waiting for his order and thought back to Lisa. She’d been possessed by a demon and nearly died because he loved her. His mother had burned. His father sold his soul. Sammy had died a few times, so had Cas. He’d lost Bobby, Jo, Ellen, Ash, the list went on and on. It was dangerous enough bringing Blake into the life. Admitting that he loved her was signing her death warrant. 

He took the bag of food and headed back out to the car. He really didn’t want to go back to the motel. He was tempted to get a second room. Blake had gotten into the habit of sleeping in his bed when they were out on hunts. Usually he wouldn’t mind. It meant he’d get his rocks off, and he’d get to make a sexy woman scream his name. But things were different now. A small part of him hoped that if he separated himself from her the feelings would go away. 

When he got back to the motel she and Sam were already elbow deep in research. She looked up at him and smiled, taking the food from him and lying it out on the table. “We think we know where the wraith’s hunting grounds are,” she said, sitting back beside Sam. 

“Yeah, Blake picked up on it.” Sam turned the computer around to show Dean. “These red marks are where all of the killings happened. They’re all within five blocks of the same bar.”

Dean sat down and unwrapped his burger. “So they’re picking their victim from the bar, following them, and waiting until they get far enough away to make the kill.” He took a bite and shrugged. “Makes sense. Can we do anything about it tonight?” he asked. 

Sam shook his head. “The bar is closed on Sundays. The best thing we can do is get some sleep, do a little more research tomorrow, maybe talk to the bartenders who were working, and then stake the place out tomorrow night.”

Dean nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

Blake stood and stretched, her salad half gone. “I’m going to take a shower.” She glanced at Dean, but he made it a point to look at his food. He knew what she was angling for, and his best option, if he wanted to get over his feelings, was definitely not to have sex with her. Even if it was hot, steamy, slippery, amazing, shower sex. He waited until he heard the bathroom door close to look up. 

“What’s your deal?” Sam asked. He closed his laptop and crossed his arms over his chest. “You’ve been acting weird with her lately.”

He sighed and pushed his food away, his apatite gone. “I think I’m falling in love,” he whispered. Usually he would avoid this conversation at all costs. But he didn’t know what to do and he was hoping Sam would. 

“And that’s a bad thing?” Sam smiled and leaned forward. “Dean, that’s great news.”

He shook his head. “No, it’s not. Not when everyone I’ve ever loved has ended up dead.” He looked up and met his brother’s eyes. “That’s the family curse.”

Sam shook his head. “I’m not so sure that applies with Blake.”

“What are you talking about?”

Sam shrugged. “She’s a damn good hunter, mainly because we taught her. She knows how to play it safe.” He sat back and pinned Dean with a look. “I don’t think she’s going anywhere.”

He sighed. Maybe Sam was right. It was hard to know. He didn’t even know which way was up when it came to Blake anymore. “I’m going to bed.” He got up and walked over to the couch. He knew it was going to upset Blake. She wouldn’t know what was going on, why he was acting the way he was. He couldn’t think about that right now. They had a job to do. He stretched out on the couch and shut his eyes. He’d talk to her when the case was over and they were back home. Until then, he just had to try to ignore what he was feeling and keep Blake as far away from him as possible.

xXx

Blake sighed as she climbed into the shower. Things had been…different lately. She wasn’t sure what it was. If she didn’t know better, she would say Dean was avoiding her. She couldn’t figure out why. She hadn’t done anything as far as she knew. And if she had she was sure Dean would have said something about it by now. 

Things had started to change after the last case they had with the crazy guy who was burning people because they needed to be purified. He didn’t like it when she road in the front seat, didn’t like it when she tried to make a move. He’d get as far away from her as possible. She was afraid he was getting ready to kick her out of the bunker. She’d be on her own then. 

She started washing her hair out and tried not to think about it, but it was hard. Hunting had become her life, the bunker was her home, and Sam and Dean were like her family. She’d do anything for them. And in this line of work, anything could mean her life. She was more than willing to give it to save them. She didn’t know what she would do if Dean decided she was ready to go off on her own. Sam was like the brother she never had. 

But more than that…she was in love with Dean. She’d realized it the night they’d come to save her from the crazy fire man. She’d managed to get away on her own, but she’d fallen asleep in the car. She’d woken up when Dean carried her into the motel room. Her head was resting against his shoulder and he smelt like leather, gun powder, and spice. She realized that she wanted to wake up every morning to the smell, with his arms wrapped around her, skin against skin. She’d barely realized she’d done it, but when he started to lay her down in the bed, she’d clung to him, not wanting to let go. 

She rinsed out her hair and coated it with conditioner. She frowned when the scent of coconut hit her senses. She’d switched scents. She thought maybe the mango was turning Dean off. She missed not being able to touch him. He’d said something about it, two days ago when she’d used it for the first time. He’d thought it was a nice change. So maybe it was working. She hated the way it smelt, but if it meant things could go back to normal with her and Dean, it was worth it. 

Quickly finishing her shower, Blake climbed out and toweled off. Normally she would sleep in one of Dean’s shirts. But with the way he’d been acting lately, she didn’t think it was a good idea. Instead, she picked up one of Sam’s flannels. She’d be swimming in it, but it was more comfortable than anything she had. She pulled it over her head and braided her black hair over her shoulder before she walked out of the bathroom. 

Dean was sleeping on the couch. That was the first thing she noticed. She frowned, looking from him to the empty bed. She usually shared with him. Maybe the coconut wasn’t working. She walked over to the bed and climbed under the cold sheets and rolled onto her side, facing the wall. She felt Sam slip into the bed with her, his big arms wrapping around her as he pulled her close. She hadn’t realized she was crying until he wiped them away. 

“What did I do?” she asked. 

He kissed her head. “You didn’t do anything. Dean’s just…he’s going through some stuff he needs to work out.” He made her look up at him. “Give him a little time. It’ll get better.”

She nodded her head, burring it in his chest. She was glad she had Sam. At least he could try to help her understand what Dean was going through. Ten years of watching the show hadn’t given her much of an edge when it came to their emotions. She fell asleep in Sam’s arms, tears drying on her face. 

xXx

Blake played with the straw in her drink. She looked around the bar. Sam was in the back, sitting in a booth. Dean was across the bar on the other side. They could face each other and keep an eye on Sam at the same time. They had no way of knowing where the wraith was going to come from, or who it was going to go for. They were hoping it was one of them. But they’d gotten a pretty good description of her from the bartender they’d talked to earlier. Apparently he’d been on the clock every night one of the victim’s died. They’d all left with the same woman. He’d told the cops, but they figured she was just a hooker and not interested. 

“Another?” She looked up at the bartender then back to her drink. She hadn’t realized it was just ice. 

“Ah, sure.” She laid another bill on the counter to cover the drink and sighed, looking around the room. They’d been there three hours and so far, nothing had happened. Well, nothing productive. She’d managed to spend the whole night analyzing every little thing she’d done for the last two weeks, and Dean had managed to go through a dozen beers. She was beginning to wonder if he’d even be able to handle a wraith at this point. 

She thanked the bartended when he sat down her drink and took a sip. She’d been nursing cranberry vodkas all night. She sighed, letting the alcohol burn its way down her body and looked around the bar again. She still didn’t see anything, so she started to look back over at Dean and Sam to make sure they were alright. 

That’s when she saw it. In the mirror above the top shelf alcohol. The melted and rotted flesh of the face of the woman sitting next to her. Blake made sure to school her face, she didn’t want to give anything away. She quickly finished her drink and stood up, purposely knocking into the wraith. She gasped and looked at her. “Oops,” Blake giggled, feigning drunk. “Guess I had a couple more than I should have.”

The woman smiled and looked her over. Gotcha, Blake thought. “How about I help you back home?” she asked. 

“Oh, I couldn’t, I live ten blocks from here.” Blake tried to stand and made sure to stumble. 

The woman caught her, steading her on her feet and slipped an arm around her waist. “I insist. We girls need to stick together.”

“Well, if you insist.” Blake let her lead her out of the bar, really hoping Sam and Dean caught what was going on. Gulping down nearly a full cranberry and vodka in a bar where they liked to use more vodka than cranberry juice was helping her make her act convincible. She was feeling just a little tipsy. 

“Which way?” Blake pointed in a random direction and stumbled along next to the woman. “Want to tell me why you were drinking alone?” she asked. 

So she liked to talk to her food. Whatever, as long as it got the job done. “My stupid boyfriend,” she mumbled. “One minute he’s fucking me in the front seat of his car, the next he doesn’t even want to sit next to me.”

“Sounds like he doesn’t know what he wants.” She led Blake down an alley. 

Blake slipped her hand inside her leather jacket and palmed the hilt of her pistol. “No, he doesn’t. But I do.” She pulled the gun out, pointing it at the wraith. “You’re done killing people.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Hunters,” she hissed. Sam and Dean walked into the alley. 

“That’s right.” Blake cocked her gun. “And you’re finished.” She fired, but the alcohol burning through her system had done more damage than she’d realized. The bullet missed and the wraith pounced. She kicked Blake back into the wall and stabbed both Sam and Dean with her spikes. Blake swore, pulling her silver knife out of the sheathe on her hip. 

She tackled the wraith to the ground, fisting a hand in her hair and slammed her face into the concrete. She grunted when she was thrown and pinned. The spike started coming towards her neck. “Go to hell,” she snarled, slamming the knife deep into the wraith’s chest. She wailed as she fell off Blake. 

She shakily got to her feet and wiped sweat from her forehead. “Let’s go home.” She grabbed her gun and put it away, sliding the knife back into it’s sheathe. She walked out of the alley and rubbed her head. She was mad at herself and at Dean. That should have gone a lot better than it did. She shouldn’t have been drinking that much. She should have known better. She climbed into the car Dean had left on the curb and laid out on the backseat. 

“You okay?” Sam asked after he climbed in and Dean pulled away. 

“I just want to go home.” She needed another shower, and a lot more alcohol. She put her arm over her eyes, trying not to cry.


	12. Slamming Doors

Reality  
Chapter 12: Slamming Doors

Blake slammed the door to her bedroom and sat on the bed. She wanted to hit something. Dean was being a complete dick. She didn’t know what the hell his problem was. She’d realized earlier that morning that she was out of a few things, shampoo, conditioner, tampons. She’d wanted to go to the store. Since she’d have to borrow car seeing as hers was in a junk yard somewhere after totaling it, she asked Dean if she could have a set of key. He’d told her no. 

Apparently she wasn’t allowed to go anywhere without him or Sam. They’d had a pretty intense screaming match in the kitchen. She’d finally given up trying to reason with him, thrown her list at him and stormed off to her room. She got up and locked the door. If he thought he could treat her like a child because he was ‘going through something’ he had another thing coming. She grabbed her laptop and looked at the case she’d found earlier. 

It seemed like a simple haunting. A woman had been killed inside of an apartment she’s recently moved into. That wasn’t the strange part. She’d been stabbed sixty-eight times and her doors had all been locked, the security system still armed. So, Blake had done some research. About twenty years ago a prostitute had been stabbed to death in that apartment, sixty-eight times. 

She looked at her phone when it went off. Dean had sent her a text message. 

Sam and I r goin. Stay inside. Locked doors.

Like hell that was happening. She was an adult. He couldn’t keep treating her like a child. She grabbed her bag and threw her sawed off, extra rock salt rounds, lighter fluid, matches, and a box of salt into it. She grabbed her pistol, fake I.D. badge and phone. She was going to take care of a ghost. She walked out of her room and went to the kitchen where they kept the keys. She grabbed the keys to one of the cars and quickly made her way to the garage. 

The haunting wasn’t that far away. She could be gone and back before midnight if she was lucky. She just needed to make sure it was the prostitute before she stated digging up graves. She threw a shovel in the trunk along with her bag and climbed behind the wheel, driving out of the garage. She might be in love with Dean, but she’d be damned if she let him control her. 

She made her way through the country side. It only took an hour for the boys to get back to the bunker and realize a car was missing. Dean started blowing up her phone. She had the GPS turned off, but she didn’t trust Dean. All he had to do was call the company and feed them some bullshit line. Still…she should let him know she was okay. She answered on his fifth call. “What?”

“Where the hell are you?” he demanded. She didn’t think she’d ever heard him that pissed off before. 

“I’ll be back by midnight. Don’t wait up.” She shut the phone and pulled the battery out, throwing it out of the window. She waited another five miles before she threw the rest of the phone. She didn’t need him riding in like some white knight. She could handle this. 

She pulled up to the apartment complex and stepped out. She walked around to the drunk and put an EMF reader into her pocket, grabbing her fake badge. She headed inside and started walking up the stairs to the room on the third floor. She hadn’t even opened the door before the EMF started going off. It was definitely a ghost. She walked inside and looked around. It was a nice place if you overlooked the bloodstains on the floor. She frowned and looked around the room. There wasn’t any ectoplasm that she could see, so that was good. It was going to be a simple salt and burn. 

“What are you doing here?” Blake spun around, looking at Amy, the prostitute who’d been murdered. 

“I’m here to help you,” she said, holding her hands up. “I’m going to put you to rest.”

Amy shook her head. “I don’t want to go to rest. I need people to know what happened to me.” 

“I know what happened to you. Everyone does. You were murdered and your killer has spent the last twenty years in jail.” Blake eyed the door. She knew who the ghost was. Better yet, she already knew where she was buried. She just needed to get out of the room and get to the graveyard. “Just let me help you.”

Amy narrowed her eyes. “No.” She threw Blake back into the wall, smashing pictures. Blake grunted and looked over to the mantle she was pinned against. She reached out, grabbing a candle stick that looked like iron. “Please work.” She threw it. Amy released her and disappeared. 

Blake didn’t hang around to see if she was coming back. She rushed out of the room and down to the car. She sighed when she was behind the wheel. It was almost dark. She tossed the fake badge onto the seat beside her and headed to the cemetery. Digging up a grave alone wasn’t going to be easy, but she’d manage. 

She slipped into the gates and killed the lights on the car and parked. She climbed out, walking around to the back. She started pulling her FBI clothes off and quickly changed into jeans and a tee shirt. She grabbed the shovel and the bag with the salt and lighter fluid and started walking through the cemetery, looking for Amy’s plot. She smiled a little as she started digging. She didn’t need Dean. He was wrong. Whatever he was going through, she really didn’t care. She could handle a simple salt and burn alone. And it felt damn good too. 

xXx

Dean was towards the bottom of his bottle of Johnny Walker Blue when he heard the bunker door open. He’d been drinking all damn day, worried as hell about Blake. He got up and watched her walk down the stairs. She was covered in dirt and smelled like fire. “Where the hell were you?” he demanded. 

“Salt and burn not far from here.” She dropped her bag and walked over, finishing off his alcohol. “I handled it, all by myself.” She turned and looked at him. 

“Wat the hell were you thinking going off alone?” he asked. “Did you forget that you were followed and chased down?” 

She rolled her eyes. “I’m a big girl, Dean.” 

“No, you’re a target,” he snapped. 

Blake narrowed her eyes and set her glass down, crossing her arms. “What is going on with you?” she asked. “Ever since that happened you’ve been acting like a dick. You won’t let me go anywhere alone but you don’t really want to be in the same room with me either.” She pinned him with a look, completely at her wits end. “What the hell do you want from me?”

He advanced on her and Blake backed up until she hit the edge of the table. He pinned her, caging her in with his arms on either side of her. She stared up at him. His eyes were so intense. The green irises taken up by pupils blown wide. He licked his lips, his gaze traveling down from her eyes to her lips. Blake licked her bottom lip before biting it lightly. She didn’t know what he was going to do. 

Dean moved with a lifetime of reflexes. A hand fisted in her hair, tilting her head. Lips sealed over hers. Blake moaned as Dean forced his tongue in. He tasted like scotch and spice. She fisted her hands in his shirt melting against him. She couldn’t catch her breath, couldn’t think. He pulled back, just a breath. Blake slowly opened her eyes and looked up at him through the thick curtain of her dark lashes. “I love you,” he whispered. 

She bit her lip, smiling. “You’re an idiot.” Blake wrapped her arms around his neck. “I love you too.” She rolled onto her toes and pressed a kiss against his lips. Dean grinned and cupped her denim clad ass in his hands, lifting her off the ground. Blake giggled and wrapped her legs around his waist, kissing his neck as he carried her down the hallway to his bedroom. “Is this what all the attitude has been about?” she asked. 

He opened the door with one hand and kicked it closed behind them. “I’m afraid of losing you.” He gently laid her out on the bed, bracing his weight over her. 

Blake cupped his face in her hands. “I’m not going anywhere, Dean.” She leaned up and kissed him. “Not even hellfire is going to keep me away for long.”

He buried his head in her neck and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Just don’t leave. Everyone leaves.”

She ran her fingers through his hair. It all made sense now. “I’m not leaving, Dean. Ever.” She kissed his head. They didn’t make love. Not tonight. Dean needed more than that. He needed reassurance. She rolled onto her side and let him spoon her, running his fingers over her skin. He left kissing on her head, in her hair, her shoulder, neck. They talked until the very early hours of the morning before she fell asleep in his arms.


	13. Hangman's Noose

Reality  
Chapter 13: Hangman’s Noose

Blake sighed as she climbed out of the Impala and stretched her arms above her head. It had been a long ten hours in the car with Sam and Dean. They’d caught another case. This one was weird. They didn’t think it was a spirit, or a demon. They weren’t entirely sure what it was. She walked around to the trunk while Sam went inside to get them a room. Dean unlocked the trunk and started pulling their bags out. “How’re you feeling?” he asked. It was late. 

“I want a shower and a decent could hours of sleep in a bed,” she said. She took her bag from him and leaned against the trunk when he closed it. She rested her head against his chest as he wrapped an arm around her. 

“Want some company in the shower?” he asked. He had that little smirk on his face. 

She smiled a little and patted his chest. “Only if you’re going to wash my hair. I’m too tired for anything else.” He chuckled and kissed her head as Sam came back out. He picked up his bag and led them to their room. Blake groaned when she saw Sam heading for the stairs. “Really?” Sam rolled his eyes and took her bag from her, handing it to Dean. He then bent and grabbed her around the knees, throwing her over his shoulder. “Sam!” she screeched as he started climbing the stairs. 

“That’s what you get for bitching,” he said, climbing the stairs effortlessly. 

She rolled her eyes and flipped her hair over her head and looked at Dean. “Are you going to let him get away with this?” she demanded. 

Dean shrugged. “Don’t bitch.” 

“Assholes,” she muttered. Sam stopped to unlock the door and walked inside, dropping her unceremoniously onto the bed. “Thanks guys.” She got up and took her bag from Dean, digging out clean clothes and her toiletries. “I’ll be in the shower.” She headed for the shower and pinched Sam’s arm as she passed. 

Blake smiled as she started the shower. It was nice having a family. She pulled her shirt over her head and looked at Dean as he walked inside. He locked the door behind him and started taking his clothes off. “Were you serious about being too tired?” he asked. 

She smirked at him as she climbed under the water. “Maybe you could change my mind.” Blake tipped her head back, letting the hot water fall over her. Dean climbed into the shower in front of her and slid to his knees. Blade bit her lip and watched him lift one of her legs and slip it over his shoulder, supporting her with his hands on her ass. She tipped her head back when she felt his lips on her, her breath catching in her throat. She gripped his short hair in her hand and moaned. “Oh, Dean…”

xXx

Dean rolled over in bed the next morning, wrapping his arm around Blake’s waist, pulling her tight against his chest. The scent of mangos filled his nose and he smiled into her hair, still slightly damp from the shower the previous night. All was right in his world. He had his brother, a hunt, and a sexy woman in his arms. He was glad she’d switched back to mango soap. That coconut shit had reeked. He kissed her shoulder, his fingers tracing intricate patterns over her belly where his shirt had ridden up her body. 

She pressed a little closer, sighing that first breath of the morning. “Morning,” she mumbled. 

“Morning.” He kissed her head and opened his eyes for the first time, looking across at Sam’s bed. His brother was gone, but he could see the folded piece of paper on the night table between the beds. He reached across Blake, squishing her slightly. She grunted as he grabbed the paper and eased off of her. “Sam’s getting breakfast,” he said tossing the paper onto the floor. “Up for a morning romp?” he asked. 

She groaned playfully and pushed him off of her as she sat up. “You’re insatiable.” She smiled and looked down at him. 

“What can I say? You just get me going.” She rolled her eyes and glanced at the door. Sam could be gone for a while yet, but she really didn’t want to risk it. “Later,” she promised, getting up. “We’ve got a job to do.”

Dean sighed and sat up. “Yeah, okay.”

“Don’t pout.” She walked over to the table and opened her laptop. “I’m going to get a head start on research.” 

He got out of bed and grabbed his jeans, pulling them on, forgoing a shirt for now. He walked over and kissed her head. He bent just a little lower, brushing his lips over her ear. “Later we can pretend you’re the naughty student doing research for her sexy professor.” 

Blake bit her lip and looked up at him. “That’s just mean.”

Dean smirked when Sam walked back into the room, a bag of food and a tray of coffees in his hand. “Figured you two would still be in bed.” He walked over to the table and set the food down. 

Blake reached over and took a coffee. “Dean wanted to, but I figured you didn’t want to walk into his naked ass pile driving me into the mattress.” 

Sam made a face and sat down. “Yeah, thanks, now that image is burned into my brain.” He sat down beside her and pulled food out of the bag, handing some to Dean. “So, what are we looking at so far?” he asked. 

“Three people have been found hanging in their homes. No signs of forced entry or foul play. All witnesses have said that the victims were happy and had no reason to hang themselves.” She sipped her coffee and scrolled through the articles on the victims. She looked up at Sam and Dean. “Why don’t you two go talk to some witnesses, I’ll go check some crime scenes, then we can meet back here in a couple of hours?”

Dean wasn’t thrilled about the idea of Blake going off alone. But he was going to trust her. He reluctantly agreed. He pulled a shirt on and looked over at Blake as she got dressed. “You be careful, understand?” 

She looked over at him and smiled. “You’re my number one speed dial. If something happens, I’ll call you.” She kissed his cheek and slipped her feet into her boots. “Try not to scare people too much.” She grabbed her bag and walked out of the room, taking a set of spare motel room keys with her. 

Dean sighed and grabbed the Impala keys. “Let’s go Sam.” He walked out and climbed in the car. 

“I’m impressed,” Sam said, looking at him as he drove off. “You’re letting her go by herself.”

Dean glanced at him. “She’s a big girl, she can handle herself.” He pulled up to the police station first. He wanted their take on the situation before he went and bothered a bunch of people. He wanted to get a firsthand look at the bodies too. He and Sam climbed out of the car. Dean straightened his tie and slipped his gun inside of his jacket. He double checked to make sure he had his ID and walked inside. It was going to be a long day. 

By the time they’d finished harassing the cops he was ready to put a bullet in his head. “That was painful,” he said as they got back into the car. 

“You called them incompetent idiots, Dean.” Sam shook his head and leaned his head back. “We’re lucky they didn’t arrest you.”

“We’re feds, they can’t touch us.” Dean smirked and drove off. “Where are we going first?” he asked. 

“Marcy Jones,” Sam said looking through the files they’d gotten. “She was roommates with the first victim.” He rattled off the address and sighed. “Think Blake’s doing alright?” 

“She’s fine.” Dean was trying not to think about it as he drove. He knew Blake could handle herself. They’d trained her after all. He pulled up to the house and climbed out, heading to the door. He got ready to deal with a grieving woman trying to get information. It’d already been a long day and it was just getting worse. He could feel the headache coming on. He hoped Blake was having better luck. 

They were on their third witness when he got a call from Blake. “Hey, what’s up?” he asked. 

“I need help. I’m at the last victim’s house. Hurry.” The line went dead. 

“Son of a bitch.” Dean put the phone back in his pocket and sped off. “Blake needs help.” He sped to the address Sam rattled off and slammed on the breaks. They both jumped out of the car, guns drawn and rushed into the house. “Blake? Blake, where are you?” he called out. 

“Blake’s not here.” He didn’t see the baseball bat that cracked against his skull. 

xXx

Blake sighed as she walked back into the motel room, pushing her hair over her head. She’d checked out all three crime scenes and had found an olive tree branch at each one. That pretty much ruled out just about everything she could think of. So she wanted to do some research before she called Sam and Dean. She dug out the bottle of Johnny Walker Blue and sat at her computer with it and the three branches to start the tedious project of research. 

It took her two hours, but she finally managed to find out what they were dealing with. She called Dean and took a drink, leaning back in her chair. She had a tension headache in the middle of her skull. She swore when his phone didn’t ring. Dean always answered his phone. She rubbed her eyes and opened up their phone account page so she could track his GPS. If she was lucky he’d have it turned on and she wouldn’t have to deal with the phone company directly. 

She plugged in his number and felt a small sense of relief when it popped up. “The last victim’s house?” She grabbed her gun and swore. Something was really wrong. She ran out of the motel and started booking it down the street. She should have stolen a fucking car. It was ten blocks to the house. She stopped a kid riding a bike. “FBI,” she panted. “I need your bike.”

“What are you going to give me for it?”

This little bitch. Blake rolled her eyes and pulled out a fifty. “Good enough?” The kid nodded and hopped off the bike. Blake climbed on and took off. She was really hoping they had what she was going to need in the back of the Impala…which she was going to have to break into. Son of a bitch. 

She was panting by the time she reached the house. She tossed the bike into the yard and ran over to the Impala. “Hey Baby, need your help.” She pulled out her lock picking kit. “Our boys are in trouble.” She bent and started working on Baby’s locks. She swore that car had a mind of her own. The trunk popped open with more ease than Blake thought. She smiled and stroked the bumper. “That’s my girl.” 

She put the lock pick kit away and lifted the false bottom, propping it up with the shotgun. “Okay, I need an oak stake, oak stake…” she started lifting guns and ammo, looking for what she needed. “Oak stake!” She pulled it out and held it under her arm. “Now I just need some lamb blood.” She started picking up jars, reading the labels. “Got ya!” She set the lamb’s blood on the ground and unscrewed the cap, keeping an eye out for looky-loos as she dipped the tip of the stake in the blood. She put the jar away and closed the trunk. 

Blake walked up to the house, pulling her gun out as she climbed up the porch steps. The door was unlocked. That wasn’t a good sign. She slipped the stake into the waistband of her jeans in the back, letting her leather jacket fall over it. She pulled out the small flashlight she kept on her and turned it on, carefully looking around. She could hear groaning coming from the living room where the victim had been hung from the rafters. 

She swore quietly to herself and tiptoed to the doorway. She pressed her back against the wall and carefully looked around. Esus, the pagan god that was killing people by hanging them had Sam and Dean tied up on the second floor. She could see the hangman’s noose around their necks. She swore. 

“Blake, don’t be shy, please, come out and play with us.” 

“Damn it.” She eased out from behind the wall, pointing her gun on Esus as she walked into the room. “Let them go,” she demanded. 

He chuckled and walked down the stairs, cocking his head as he looked at her. “Why would I do that? These boys are going to be my next sacrifices.” He licked his lips, walking up to her. He took her gun and it burned hot in her hand until she dropped it. “You I might keep for a while, just to play with.” He cupped her face, brushing his thumb over her skin. 

Blake pulled her head away and punched him. His head snapped to the side and Blake took a step back. He turned, narrowing his eyes on her and wiped away blood from where she’d split his lip. “That was foolish.” 

She pulled out the stake. “Maybe, but I’m going down fighting.” She flipped it in her hand, getting a better grip on it and lifted her leg, kicking Esus in the head. He caught her leg before it made contact and threw her into the wall. She grunted, tightening her grip on the stake. The last thing she needed was to drop it. Esus walked over and grabbed the wrist holding the stake, beating it against the ground, trying to get her to release it. 

She growled and wrapped her legs around his neck, squeezing, trying to cut off his air supply. She knew it probably wasn’t going to work, but she had to try. He let go of her hand, trying to get her legs off of him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and used the leverage to flip them. She gasped for air when he closed his hands around her throat. 

“You…don’t…hurt,” she gasped, raising the stake above her head. She slammed it down into his chest. “My family.” Esus hands fell from her throat as his body died. She climbed up and took a deep breath. Sam and Dean were grunting through their gags at the top of the stairs. “I’m coming.” She climbed the stairs and pulled out her knife. She bent in front of Sam first and cut the ropes around his arms before moving to Dean, cutting him free. 

They pulled the nooses off and slipped the bandanas out of their mouths. “How did you know?” Dean asked. 

She smiled. “I’m clever as the devil and twice as pretty.” She winked and helped Dean off the floor. “Let’s go back to the motel.” 

He nodded, putting his arm around her and followed her out of the house, Sam close by. He’d been right. Blake could more than handle herself if the dead pagan god in the living room was anything to go by. He kissed her head before slipping into the car. He drove them back to the motel, Blake sitting between him and Sam in the front seat. Things were good.


	14. Save Me

Reality  
Chapter 14: Save Me

Dean walked into the library to a rather…interesting sight. Rex was back with his tattoo gun and ink. Blake was stretched out on one of the tables, her shirt bunched under her head as pillow as Rex worked on her rib cage. He didn’t say anything, he walked around and looked over Rex’s shoulder to see what Blake was getting done. There was a tree in the middle of autumn, bright red leaves falling in a wave of color across her skin. He crossed his arms and looked up at her, eyebrow raised. “Morning.”

She smiled and winked at him. “Morning.” She looked down at the tattoo. Rex was nearly done. “Hope you don’t mind.” 

He pulled out a chair and sat beside her head. “Well, I don’t know that I like the fact that Rex is getting a good view of your chest, but I can’t say I hate the ink.” He reached out, tracing the anti-possession tattoo with his finger, causing goosebumps to rise on her skin. 

She smiled and took his hand in hers. “Rex is a professional. Aren’t you Rex?”

“Nope.” He smirked and looked at Dean while he turned off his tattoo gun. “But you’re all done baby.” He cleaned the tattoo and put the healing ointment on it. He pulled a mirror from his bag as Dean helped Blake off of the table. He held up the mirror so she could see her new piece of artwork. “What do you think?”

She turned in the mirror flexing and moving. “It’s perfect. You’re amazing.” She smiled and grabbed her shirt. She waited until Rex put the paper towels over the tattoo to keep it protected and to soak up some of the extra blood before she pulled it on. She pulled out some cash and handed it to him. 

“Keep in touch.” Rex packed up and left. 

Blake looked up at Dean. “Is Sam awake?” she asked. 

“He should be. His room was empty when I checked in on him. Why? What’s up?”

“I think I found a case…here in Lebanon.” She grabbed her laptop off of the couch. “Go get Sam and I’ll tell you both.” She curled up on the couch and opened the article she’d found while reading the online news for their county. Dean didn’t ask questions. He went to find Sam. When they walked back into the room, the parked it in a chair and looked at her, waiting for her to spill. 

“Okay, so I was reading the news this morning and I saw this article. In the last two days, three people have been killed by what police are claiming as an animal attack.”

“But you don’t buy it.” 

She shook her head at Sam. “No, because the hearts were missing. It sounds like a werewolf to me, and this close to home makes me nervous.” She turned the laptop around and passed it to Sam. 

“Three people?” Dean asked. 

She nodded. “One last night, two the night before.” She looked at Sam. “It fits the lunar cycle. We’ve got two days to find the werewolf before the full moon.” 

Sam sighed and nodded his head. “What else have you got?”

She climbed off the couch and sat between them at the table. “I was working on while Rex worked on the tattoo.” She brought up a map of the town she’d been working on. The first body was found here, behind La Dow’s Supermarket on the corner of Chicago Avenue and Main Street. The second body was found behind Hoss’s Antiques and Gifts on the Corner of Elm Street and Grove Avenue. The last body was found this morning in the field beside the Midway on Elm.” She pointed to each corresponding ‘x’ on the map she’d made. 

“And idea where our werewolf is hiding?” Dean asked. 

“Actually, yeah.” She zoomed in to an abandoned house on Oak. “This place is up for foreclosure. It’s the only place close to all of the killings. I’d bet a round of beers that he’s in there.”

Dean nodded his head. “That’s good work.” He sighed and rubbed his face. “I don’t want to just go rushing in though. One of us will each take a location, wait to see what we see. If he doesn’t make a move tonight, we’ll go after him tomorrow.” Blake and Sam agreed. Since the werewolves were night hunters, they spent the day getting ready for it. 

xXx

Dean was parked outside of the house Blake had come up with. He’d been sitting outside of the antique store until it closed. Deciding it was going to be a bust, he thought he’d go over to the house and canvas it for a bit. If the werewolf was out and about they could catch him either slinking back home, or leaving for the night. 

He sighed, finishing off his fourth cup of coffee that night. He’d slept most of the day, hoping that would help him sleep awake. But he’d slept too much and now that’s all his body wanted to do. He cranked the air up, hoping that would help keep him awake. 

He really hoped Sam and Blake were having better luck than he was. He sighed and rested his head back against the seat, just for a minute. He didn’t know where things were going with Blake. They’d both dropped the ‘L’ bomb after nearly ripping each other’s throats out. She’d said she wouldn’t leave him…but people always left him. He hoped she’d be the one that stuck, but he wasn’t getting his hopes up yet. 

He was nodding off again when someone knocked on his window. Dean looked up at the man. He looked panic, frantic. He climbed out, palming the gun on his back. “You’ve got to help me,” the man said. “My girlfriend, she’s been attacked.” 

Dean’s heart dropped in his chest. “Where is she?” he asked. He was likely going to have to kill the girl. The man pointed. Dean turned to run, to try and save her. He was hit over the head with something heavy. He hit the ground hard, blacking out. 

When he came to he was tied to a chair inside of a barren living room. He shook his head, looking around, testing the ropes around his wrists behind the chair. The man who’d knocked on his window seeking help walked into the room. “You’re awake.” He smirked and leaned on the wall across from Dean. 

“You’re the werewolf?”

“I am. My name’s Michael. You see, I had a pack once. Six of the best. They were my children, my mate.” He glared, looking at Dean. “They’d captured you, they were going to present you to me as a gift. But that never happened. When I got there they were all dead.” He got up walking over to Dean. He realized how fucked he was. This was the alpha of the pack Blake had killed on the day they’d met. Michael punched Dean, grabbing his hair and holding his head in place only to hit him again. Dean tasted blood. “I caught the scent of a female when I got there. So I followed it. Followed you.” He smirked, crouching down on his haunches and looking up at Dean. “I’m the one who tried to run her off the road.”

“If you think you’ve got some great plan going, you’ve got another thing coming,” Dean told him. “She and my brother are both out there. She already killed your whole pack. What makes you think she won’t kill you too?”

Michael pulled Dean’s phone out of his own pocket and scrolled until he found Blake’s number. “Blake huh?” He smirked and pushed ‘call’ putting the phone on speaker. While the call went through he walked around behind Dean and tied a gag around his mouth. 

“Dean? What’s up?” Blake asked. 

“Dean’s actually a little tied up at the moment,” Michael said. 

“Who is this?” Dean could hear the anxiety rising in her voice.

“This is the man whose family you killed.” Michael leaned against the wall again, looking Dean in the eyes as he spoke. “I’m the man who’s going to kill your family unless you can get here by midnight. You know where to find me.” He hung up and dropped the phone on the floor, crunching it under his boot. He smirked and looked at Dean. “I’m going to enjoy ripping her heart out and eating it in front of you.” He laughed, walking from the room.

xXx

Blake pulled up to the house. She’d sent a message to Sam but he wasn’t there yet. It was possible it was taking him longer or he hadn’t gotten the message. She wasn’t going to wait for him. Dean was in there and he was in trouble. Whatever the werewolf had said on the phone hadn’t made sense to her…at first. It all clicked on the drive over. He was the alpha of the pack she’d killed the say she met Dean. He was the one who’d been following her. It was payback for killing his pack. 

She walked up to the house, her gun loaded with silver bullets, a silver knife as backup on her hip. She kicked the door in and looked around. She heard Dean grunting from the left. She slowly walked into the room, keeping her gun up. Michael walked in from the other side of the room and looked at her. “I’m glad you could join us,” he said, standing in front of Dean, putting a knife against his throat. 

Blake glanced at him before focusing on Michael. “Let him go,” she said calmly. “This is between you and me.” 

He chuckled and shook his head. “No.” Before she could react he put the knife deep in Dean’s chest. Blake screamed and fired the gun. It missed the heart, hitting Michael’s shoulder. He howled in pain as the silver tore through him. She shot again but missed. He tackled her to the ground, knocking the gun from her hand. She grunted, pushing on his throat as he lowered his mouth, trying to rip her throat out. She struggled, trying to keep him away from her skin and at the same time reach down for her knife. 

She punched him in the head. The momentary distraction enough for her to get her knife out. He growled, sinking his teeth deep into her shoulder. Blake cried out as the pain shot through her. She dragged the silver blade across his chest, leaving a deep, burning cut. He howled, backhanding her. She felt her lip split with the fire of the slap. But she held onto the knife. She heard Sam run in, rush to Dean. She managed to throw Michael off of her before putting the knife in his chest. 

He didn’t move when she got up. But she walked over to her gun and picked it up. She stood over his dead body and emptied her clip in him, all of the rage fueling her. She dropped the gun when it wouldn’t fire anymore and turned to Sam. He was getting Dean out of the chair and lying him out on the floor. “Call Castiel,” she demanded, walking over. She took the knife and ripped the bottom part of her shirt off. She quickly and cleanly pulled the knife from Dean’s chest and pressed the ripped shirt against the wound. She looked down at him, tears running from her eyes. 

“I promised you, you bastard,” she choked out. “I promised you I wouldn’t leave. Not even hellfire was going to keep me away.” She shook her head, trying to see him clearly through the tears. Blood gushed from the wound on his chest. She vaguely heard Sam talking to Cas, telling him where they were. Dean was choking on his own blood. She choked on a sob. “Don’t you dare leave me,” she hissed. “Don’t you fucking do it.”

She felt a hand on her shoulder. She felt Castiel kneel beside her. Cas reached out, but Dean’s eyes were already closed. She couldn’t tell if he was breathing. She felt her world crashing around her. “Cas…”

“He’s going to be okay,” Castiel reassured her. “He just needs to rest.” He looked up at Sam. “I’ll get him back to the bunker.” 

“Take Blake with you. I can manage the cars.” 

Blake didn’t argue. One minute she was kneeling on the floor beside Dean’s body, the next they were in Dean’s bedroom. He was lying out on the bed and she was kneeling beside it with Cas. Dean’s blood was all over her hands. “He’s going to be alright,” Cas whispered. He gently eased Blake away and out of the room. He took her to the library and sat her down on the couch. He moved quietly, getting a tumbler and a bottle of her preferred whiskey from the table. He poured her a glass and handed it to her. “Drink.”

She didn’t argue, didn’t say a word. She was practically catatonic. If Dean didn’t make it out of this alive she didn’t know what she would do. Cas said he was alright, but she wouldn’t believe it until he opened his eyes. She drowned the glass and the second and the third Castiel poured her. She drank until he set the bottle down and she passed out on the couch. 

xXx

Dean shot up in bed, sucking a huge gulp of air into his lungs. The last thing he remembered was Michael stabbing him before launching at Blake. He looked around. He was in his bed back at the bunker. He patted his chest, expecting to find a gaping wound there. When he didn’t he realized that Cas must have healed him. He didn’t remember dying, so that was a plus.

He climbed out of bed and walked out of the room. He needed to find Blake. She was his top priority. He walked into the library and saw her passed out on the couch with an empty bottle of Jack Daniels beside her on the table. He sighed and walked over picking her up and shifting her onto his lap. There was blood under her fingernails, but none on her hands. Someone must have cleaned her up. 

“She was worried about you.” 

Dean looked up at Castiel as he walked into the room. “So you loaded her up with whiskey?” he asked. 

“She need to rest, just like you.” He walked over and sat on the couch beside them. “How are you feeling?”

“Pretty good considering I was stabbed by a werewolf last night.” He kissed Blake’s head and looked at his best friend. “Thanks.”

Cas nodded. “I’ve got some things I need to do. I’ll be in touch.” 

He disappeared and Dean sighed, stroking Blake’s back. She slowly started to wake up. He felt her fist her hands in his shirt and breath him in. “You’re awake,” she mumbled against his chest. 

“So are you.” He looked down at her. 

“Scared the crap out of me.” She looked up at him. Her eyes were red and swollen from the crying she’d done. 

He bent and kissed her. “Scared the crap out of me too.” He rubbed her back and kissed her again. He needed this. Just needed to hold her in his arms. Needed to feel her against him. He’d been so worried about her leaving he hadn’t pictured it the other way around. “I’m guessing you killed the werewolf?” he asked, noticing for the first time the bruises and cuts on her face. 

She nodded. “Probably considered overkill…I stabbed him then emptied my clip.” She bit her lip trying to fight a smile. “I was pissed.”

“Good.” He smirked, pulling her so she was straddling him. “It’s good to know that you’d avenge my death.”

“That’s not funny.”

“I’m sorry.” He kissed her. He hadn’t realized how badly he’d scared her. 

“You promise me something right now, Dean Winchester, because I already did.” He looked at her, admiring the fire in her stormy eyes. “You promise me that you’ll never leave me. Ever.”

He took her hands and put them over his heart, covering them with his own. “Not even hellfire is going to keep me away for long. I promise.” She nodded her head and rested against his chest. He’d meant it too. Nothing was going to keep him away from her. She was his life now. Hunting was a side job. Keeping Blake in his life, keeping her safe, loving her, that was his mission in life. He was going to make good on his promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it! Hope you guys enjoyed this story!


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